


Once We Were Friends

by RaeC



Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-07
Updated: 2003-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-10 12:18:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeC/pseuds/RaeC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex is offered something he can't refuse, but he should have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once We Were Friends

**Once We Were Friends**

**By RaeC**

**August 15th, 2012**

It happened so long ago that I can almost forget the details. Can almost convince myself that it never happened. I can almost forget what he looked like. What he smelled like. What it was like to have him under my hands, his skin soft as silk and his body hard as diamonds. What it meant to be his friend; themes like honor and loyalty, second nature to a boy, no a young man, at whatever the personal cost. That if I just try hard enough, I can forget that I love Clark Kent.

Almost.

But not quite.

No matter how hard I try, I can still feel his hands on me, exploring, tasting, memorizing. And the feeling is twice as strong when I'm at the castle. Every inch has some sense memory built into it - a ghost of a happier time - this study most of all. The fireplace where we spent many evenings talking, playing chess by its light. The pool table where he beat me nine times out of ten. My desk, the only protection there was between me and the hazel eyed, raven-haired teenager who managed to capture all of my attention the moment he walked into a room.

I let my hand linger over the warm surface of the wood, stopping in my stroll around the room to just feel, remember. There were so many memories here. I had it once; I had it all.

I had him. Clark Kent. Six foot and three inches of pure all-American farm boy. You always hear jokes about farmer's daughters, but they never warn you about their sons. If the women are beautiful, the men are devastating. And Clark was definitely that. His smile alone could have lit up Metropolis. And yet, he hid behind a shy charm that somehow made people forget he was there. I never understood that. People are blind.

Sighing, I moved away from the desk and fell into a chair next to the fireplace with a drink and turned the television on low. I was tired, sore, and in need of shower, yet I couldn't convince my body to move any further. I just wanted to forget. Needed to will away the memories, if only for a night.

It was here in this town where, for the second time in my life, everything changed. One moment of weakness where I convinced myself that I could have it all. I didn't care enough to expect the consequences.

Or prepare for them.

I let myself forget who and what I was. That was a mistake.

Looking back, it's a time that should be remembered, if for no other reason than to remind me why I shouldn't care and if I do, how spectacularly I can screw things up.

**May 24th, 2002**

_"In market news today, ILC is up by one quarter, Westinghouse by two tenths, and Wayne Enterprises up by three quarters. LuthorCorp is down by a fifth; due to its recent take over of Hardwick Enterprises. The move shocked market analysts who predicted short-term high earnings for the second quarter. Interest for second quarter dropped causing the stocks to depreciate in value. Analysts are carefully watching the new developments with an eye to the future. Lyle Covet, an analyst for Merle Lynch noted that LuthorCorp needed to expand its interests to maintain its rating and this recent merge between the two companies will only strengthen the LuthorCorp stock's value in the long run."_

_"International Logistics and Components took over the failing Cadmus Labs left floundering in the hostile takeover bid between LuthorCorp and Hardwick Enterprises. Cadmus is a tiny research and development corporation that has in recent years fallen on hard times. ILC rep Barbara Harding announced from their Switzerland Headquarters that they would be shifting their R &D Department over to Cadmus making it a separate corporation altogether."_

_"Logistics recently won the bidding war against Wayne Industries and LuthorCorp for a highly coveted government contract involving genetic alteration. The purpose of the ten-year contract is to continue to expand alternate food sources and discover new preventive measures as well as experiment with organic soil enhancements. The contract is a lucrative one for the former failing R &D corporation. Industry experts expect both ILC and Cadmus stocks to continue to strengthen."_

I turned the television off, the news of my father's victory left a sour taste in my mouth.

"I thought you'd be happy with the news, Lex." Clark stood in the doorway of the study, his backpack slung over a shoulder, his face unreadable.

"It's business, Clark." I rose from my chair and walked over to the bar to pour a scotch. "Something to drink? Water? Soda?"

"No, I'm good." Clark came in the room and tossed his backpack on the floor next to the sofa. "So. That's what the whole thing with Victoria was about?"

"Yes. Corporate take-overs. It's what my father knows best." I smirked.

"I don't understand you sometimes."

"What's to understand?" I sat back down, hiding myself behind my desk.

"You. Victoria. This." Clark waved his hand around the room. "You slept with her and for what?"

"Didn't you listen to the news, Clark? It was all there." I laughed as I gestured at the television with my glass. "My job was to keep Victoria _occupied_. I did that. As I said, business." I put my glass down and leaned forward on the desk. "Now tell me why you're really here."

"I came to see how you were. I haven't seen you around town and you haven't been down to the farm in over a week." Clark sat down in one of the chairs. "And you haven't been around when I've come by in the afternoons. That's not like you, Lex. What's going on?"

"Why don't you ask me tomorrow, after I've drank myself into oblivion." Victoria wasn't the only one whoring herself. I finished off my drink and rose to get another. Clark followed me.

"Lex, talk to me." Clark put his hand on top of mine on the decanter.

We both started at the sound of someone clearing their voice. Clark jumped back, as if he'd been burned. I'd know that sound anywhere and braced myself.

"If I could have a moment of your time, Lex. Away from your little 'friend'." My father, and I used that term loosely, mocked as he stood in the doorway, his hands tucked into his pockets looking for all the world as if he owed it.

Clark glanced over at me as he picked up his books, half-pitying, half-commiserating. "I've got to get going anyway. My parents expected me home half an hour ago."

"How quaint. Your boyfriend has a curfew." My father smirked.

Clark blushed ten shades of red before rushing out of the room. "I'll call you later."

"He's not my boyfriend." Great Dad, thanks. I'll be lucky if I can get Clark to talk to me before the week is out.

"Lover then." He strolled into my study and headed straight for the bar.

"No." I shook my head and sat down at my desk. I had a feeling that I wasn't going to like this little visit.

"No? You surprise me, Lex. I'd have thought by now you'd have taken advantage of anything on two legs. That _is_ your style, isn't it?"

"Clark's my friend, 'Dad'. Nothing more." Not anymore. Not since I'd been banished to Smallville. Don't worry, Dad. I've been the perfect heir, protecting the family name. That was the point of sending me here, wasn't it? To learn discretion? Among other things.

"Luthor's don't have friends."

"Well I do."

"You'll see I'm right, Lex."

"I doubt it." For the most part, he was right. Luthor's have enemies. Luthor's have acquaintances. People who want nothing more than your influence. Luthor's marry for money or power. But they don't have friends. I learned that the hard way in Metropolis. Clark was proving to be the exception. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"I can't check up on my son?"

"Not your style, Dad."

"Lex, don't be disrespectful."

"What do you want?"

"That was the Kent boy, wasn't it?" My father sat on the edge of the desk. His slacks artfully draping down his legs, wrinkles not daring to leave an impression. "Tell me about him."

My father taking an interest in Clark. Why? He couldn't care less about my friends so long as I behave myself. This has to be leading somewhere else. Carefully schooling my expression, I ask the obvious. "What do you want to know?"

"Why, for one, you insist on hanging out with a sixteen year old boy, Lex. He is beneath you. And you aren't fucking him." My father leaned down into my personal space. "So it must be something else. This town has 'interesting' qualities of which I'm sure even you haven't failed to notice, Lex."

Exasperated, I stood up, causing my father to lean back. "You amaze me sometimes, Dad." Shaking my head I walked away from him and got myself a drink. "Clark is my friend. He saved my life. I help him with his homework. Call it a civic duty. Now, why are you really here?"

He wasn't going to come out and tell me why. We'd dance around the issue until he found out everything he wanted to know and then I'd have to spend the next day or two sifting through all the clues to figure out his game.

"There's a party I want you to attend in Metropolis."

"A party?"

"It will be the perfect opportunity for you to make some connections and for you to prove to me that the time I've invested in you hasn't been totally wasted."

"I doubt it."

"Be there. I don't think I have to tell you to dress formally. I'll expect you at the house at eight next Friday. Now, I'd like to go over the quarterly reports for the plant. And have a room prepared, I'll be spending the night."

He settled himself in behind my desk, taking it over as easily as he did everything in my life. I made the call to the staff and made myself a second drink. It was going to be a long night.

Clark dropped in with the produce delivery just as my father was leaving the following day. Which my father had to take advantage of. If he was testing the waters to see if I had lied to him last night, this was a perfect time. Members of my staff were loading my father's limo with his bags and Clark's mother had dropped in for her usual Saturday chat.

"I see your _boyfriend_ is back, Lex." Clark blushed but went about his job of unloading the truck. He refused to look at my father and barely glanced at his mother. I know Clark; he was worried about something. I was too. And it wasn't because Clark and I were seeing each other - it was because I didn't want Clark to get hurt.

"Mr. Luthor. Lex. How nice to see you." Martha Kent stepped into the silence with ease.

"Mrs. Kent." My father nodded in her direction before turning back to me. "Lex, I'll expect you next weekend." With that, my father entered the car, an evil smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. I'm dead. How am I going to explain this to Clark?

Clark walked up to me as the limo pulled away, whispering, "Is he always so…"

"You get used to it." I told Clark as I watched Dad leave, my hands tucked into my pockets to prevent anyone from seeing how angry I really was. That really was the story of my life. You get used to everything after a while. I was used to my father pushing. Forcing me into situations I didn't care for, which is why he did it. A test to see if I would embarrass the family name or learn from my mistakes.

"Anyone want to explain to me what your father was talking about, Lex? Clark?" Oh shit! Here I was worrying about Clark's reaction and forgot all about his mom. We both turned to face her, and I'm sure had twin expressions of guilt on our faces. This was not going to go well. At least it wasn't Clark's father.

"Mrs. Kent, it's not what it sounds like."

"Honest, Mom. There's nothing going on."

"Clark, Lex? Kitchen. Now." She would have made a good general. Martha gave an order and expected us to follow her, no questions asked, which we did. Thanks, Dad. This is another fine mess you've gotten me into. And I'm sure it was purposely planned.

For those about to be hung - any last words?

The door had barely closed behind us when Martha whirled around, anger on her face, in her stance. "I want to know what's been going on over here and I want to know right now."

"Nothing, Mom." Clark quickly turned on his most imploring teenage expression, literally begging his mother to believe him.

"Mrs. Kent, this is nothing more than my father's warped sense of humor. Clark and I are friends. Just friends."

"Then why would your father even suggest such a thing?" I couldn't tell who she was angrier with, us for maybe being in a relationship and not telling her, or my father. And if I told her why my father would _suggest_ that Clark was my boyfriend, what would she think then? I had no idea what to say.

"Lex?" Now I had Clark waiting for an answer, but I didn't have to tell his mother. She had figured it out all on her own. I could see written all over her face.

"Oh. I see." Martha sat down on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. "I should have expected this after hearing the rumors from Metropolis."

Clark sat next to her, still waiting for an answer. "Expected what?"

"Can I get you a glass of water, Mrs. Kent?" I tried to put off the inevitable. It's one of the reasons I was banished to this backwater in the first place.

"Coffee, please. A very strong cup of coffee."

"Is this about you being bi, Lex?"

"You knew?" I started, nearly spilling coffee all over my hand.

Clark snorted. "Of course I knew, Lex. There's a picture of you kissing a guy in your desk." When had he seen that? Do I have any secrets from him?

"It's a bit more complicated than that, but essentially, yes." I handed his mother her coffee and sipped my own while I composed my thoughts. "Luthor's do not have _friends_ , Clark. Therefore, in my father's mind, I'm either, uh…" I waved my hand in Clark's direction hoping he'd get it and I wouldn't have to say it.

"Having sex with me." Clark said it so matter of factly I would have thought he wanted to, if it wasn't for the blush plastered across his face.

"Yes." I got up and walked away. "Or," I added. "You want something from me."

"For example?" Martha's voice was guarded.

I looked at Clark, then his mother, both of them braced for bad news. This is what my father was after yesterday, Clark's secret. Whatever it was. Everything else was just a cover. What had Victoria told him? That I was investigating Clark or lusting after him? I didn't know what her plans were anymore than I knew my father's. So I had to lie, almost. "Like my protection." Instant defensive mechanisms in place. I hated being right all the time. "More coffee, Mrs. Kent?"

"No, I'm fine. We should be going. Jonathan is expecting us back at the house early today." Martha can lie almost as well as Clark. I'd bet my castle that they were running home to figure out what to do now. She gave my hand a pat and with a nod to her head, told Clark to follow her.

"Mrs. Kent?" She paused at the door, bracing herself. "For what it's worth, Clark's always had my protection."

"Thank you, Lex." Martha hurried from the house.

"Lex?" Clark stopped at the door. "Protect me from what?"

"Not what, who." Small, ironic smile. "My father, Clark." He ran after his mother almost as scared as she was. I may have played my hand too soon.

As if my life wasn't complicated enough, an old friend from Metropolis appeared on my doorstep that night. God, what I wouldn't do to just relieve some pressure - needed release - but not with my dad watching things so closely. Between the people in town watching my every move, waiting for the signs of the son to become the father and my father waiting for me to screw up, things couldn't get much worse.

"What's the matter with you, Lex? There was a time when I wouldn't have to convince you to come out and play on a Saturday night." Rick's shirt stretched tight over his stomach, the emerald green shade showing off his abs to perfection. Black jeans and black boots completed his ensemble. The dark colors only made the paleness of his skin that much lighter. His dark hair was tipped with red that offset the green of his eyes. The boy was hot and he knew it.

And trouble.

"Rick, what are you doing here?" I asked.

"I'd heard you'd been exiled to the middle of nowhere with absolutely no entertainment and came to save you from yourself. Looks like I'm just in time." Green eyes flashed with humor at his own joke. "You've become boring, Lex."

"I'm happy, Rick." I leaned back against the leather, the heat of the fire warmed me, relaxed me. If I went to Metropolis, there was always the chance that I'd see Victoria and my father together. That was certainly an unexpected development and if I could just get Rick to disappear, I could finish off the bottle of scotch I'd fully planned on consuming yesterday. Drinking to oblivion had its advantages. It let you forget who you were and sometimes, why. Why, being the most important part of the equation.

"Lex, Lex, Lex. Your reputation would be destroyed if anyone else from Metropolis had dropped in on you." Rick slinked - that was the only way to put it - over to my chair to kneel by side. He ran a hand up my thigh before I stopped him. "Well if you don't want to go to the city…"

People had made the mistake before of thinking they knew me. "Don't ever touch me without my permission, Rick." I grabbed his hand twisting it. I didn't want him near me. I didn't want anyone touching me. Now that Victoria was gone, I didn't have to put up with unwanted advances.

Anger washed over him and he jerked his hand away. "I came to drag you out of this pit you call a home and have some fun. I can see my trip was wasted."

"I'll have the staff prepare you a room. You can stay the night, but I want you gone in the morning." I was angry too. I didn't ask him to come. I rose, stopped at the door, and turned at his scornful laugh.

"You've grown hard, Lex. Just like _Daddy Dearest_. He must be so proud." Rick mocked, as he lay sprawled on the floor next to my chair, his hair as wild as his eyes. There was a time when I would have taken what he offered without a second thought. When his anger turned me on. He knew that too.

"Not this time, Rick."

"You're a fool, Lex."

"Maybe. Or then again, maybe I know who sent you." I smiled. The look on his face confirmed it. Another one of Dad's tests. I should have known. A boy toy to distract the heir to see if he was still a hedonist. Sorry Dad, I've got better things to do with my time - more important things and more importantly, a better person to distract myself with.

Sunday morning dawned bright and early. I had to take care of some business at the plant and then I had the rest of my day free. First I had to get rid of my unwanted guest. I wonder what was going to go into his report?

Half of the staff in the castle was on my father's payroll, reporting my movements and visitors. Clark must have shown up on too many of them for my father to ignore. With Victoria in the old man's arms, she must be filling him in on how often Clark was at the castle and not because he was doing me a favor. No, he was there in the middle of the day. Not. An. Employee. I wonder which part insulted her more - that I spent my time with Clark instead of her or that Clark was a sixteen-year-old commoner.

As I came downstairs, I heard voices coming from kitchen. Oh fuck, Clark! He wasn't supposed to be here until later this afternoon. It had to be a set up, all nice and neatly arraigned to seem innocent. Something tells me that my father had a hand in this. It's what I would do. Divide and Conquer.

"Morning, Lex. How did you sleep?" Rick purred from his stool at the counter. Fuck, this was going to be a mess.

"I suppose I don't need to make introductions?" I leaned against the doorframe, hands in my pockets, with a nonchalance I didn't feel. I couldn't strangle Rick, even though I wanted to. First, it would make a mess of the kitchen and secondly, Clark would probably have something to say about it. Pity.

Rick was enjoying this way too much. "Nope." He was pleased with himself and Clark just looked embarrassed. Just what he was embarrassed the most about was the question - Rick's blatant sexual reference, which even Clark couldn't miss, or proof of my sexuality in his face. It was time to change the subject.

"Where's your mother this morning, Clark?" I asked as I got myself a cup of coffee and got my emotions under control. Clark would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind to miss the resemblance between himself and Rick. They were both tall and good-looking, dark hair, muscular. Where Rick was pale, the kind of pale that comes from staying inside, affected for the look, Clark was tanned from spending his days in the sun. Rick's muscle tone came from hours in the gym and Clark's from hard labor.

It was the differences that set them apart. Rick was a year younger than me, twenty, but you'd never know just glancing at Clark that he was just sixteen. It was the air of innocence that surrounded the boy that gave it away. Rick, on the other hand, was callous, cynical, and years of hard living had already started to show on his face. In another five or six years he'd be in some plastic surgeon's chair trying to stave off the ravages of heroin, alcohol, and other addictions - assuming he lived that long.

"She, uh, she's busy." Uh oh. Mom must not know he was here. Clark wouldn't look directly at him either. Another dead give away.

"Well, I must be going, Lex. It's been - fun." Rick slid off of the stool and ran a hand down my arm. "See you Friday." There was a promise there and I wanted to kill him all over again. Rick was staking out his territory, territory that didn't belong to him. I was going to have a long talk with my father when I got into Metropolis about his underhanded tactics.

"I doubt it, Rick." At my words, Rick started to smile until he saw my face.

With a stiff nod, he escaped, which left me to deal with Clark. Silently sighing to myself, I turned around to see what damage this latest escapade into my past had wreaked on my life.

"So, Clark." I sat down next to him at the counter. "What brings you over here this early?"

"Who's Rick?" Clark asked. He nervously played with his coffee cup, his face hidden.

"Someone I used to know from Metropolis, why?" I had to take this one step at a time.

"A _friend_?" From the way he said it and the way Rick acted, I'm sure Clark already knew. Why he needed to hear me say it, I have no idea.

"Clark…" I got up and went to refill my cup. At least Clark was looking at me now and not staring a hole through the counter top.

"He's the guy from the picture, isn't he?"

"Yes." Not that I had any _emotional_ attachment to the picture. Actually, the reason I saved it was because it was a victory of sorts. I'd successfully managed to get my father's attention with those photos and at the same time had one hell of a night. It's also what brought Rick to my father's attention. I'm not exactly proud of the way I used Rick, but Rick didn't seem to mind. He'd served his purpose and we both had some fun.

"He looks kinda like me." Clark was watching me for signs of something. Perhaps he was just curious, but I doubt it.

"You are nothing alike, Clark. Trust me." What was going on here? Clark couldn't think…

"Am I that kind of friend?" Clark did think.

God, how do I explain the fucked up relationship Rick and I had? Clark would never be a replacement for Rick. Clark is what Rick could only dream to be. Real. Rick is whoever you want him to be, whenever you want him; a playmate that comes with the kind of price tag that can follow you around for the rest of your life.

"No." I wouldn't look at him. If I did, I'd blow it. He was nothing like Rick and if I had anything to say about it, Clark would never find why.

"Why not?" Startled, I looked up to find Clark staring intently at me, as if he could see into me and find the answers he wanted. That's when it hit me. Clark was jealous.

Clark Kent was jealous of Rick Harper, Rent Boy. I couldn't help myself, I laughed. It was absurd. Clark had never shown an interest in me beyond being my friend. And to be jealous of something that would never happen? Only Clark.

"Because you are my friend, not someone to be used, Clark."

"Oh." That must have answered all his questions, because Clark started tracing patterns on the counter.

Time for a little positive reinforcement, as my ex-shrink would say. "Don't worry about it." I squeezed his shoulder as I got up. "I know where your interests lie. Speaking of which, how is the lovely Miss Lang?"

I dug around in the refrigerator as I waited for him to answer me. I needed something to eat. I'd missed dinner last night and I was starving. To make matters worse, I'd given the cook the weekend off.

"I - she - uh - fine. She's fine. I've gotta go, Lex." Until I met Clark, I used to think I was a master at avoiding the subject. When he's around I don't know whether I'm coming or going. As if there is a clue bus that everyone else is on and I'm left standing on the side of the road waiting for a taxi.

"Clark..." The boy was gone before I could say another word. I heard the truck start and it was already down the driveway before I made it to the door. Sighing, for what must have been the twentieth time that morning, I found some cereal and milk and sat down to eat. I still had work to do at the plant and since my excuse for hurrying just took off, and from all indications wouldn't be returning, I might as well spend the day there.

It was two days before I saw Clark again. In town where it was safe. I'd walked into the Talon where he was moving boxes from the back room for Lana Lang. I stopped near the door, the curtains hiding me from view. I watched the play of light over the boy's face as he smiled and chatted with Lana. The way his hair fell forward and he had to brush it back. The strain of his shirt as he lifted the boxes and the way his jeans molded to his legs as he worked.

Even dusty and dirty, Clark looked good. I left. I'd check in on Lana later to see how business was going. There was too much temptation in that room. I didn't want to talk to Clark. You could say we were avoiding each other after Sunday. I'd give him space if that was what he needed. Space was good for resetting boundaries, right?

I don't know about Clark, but I certainly needed the time to get myself together. I'd come out to my best friend and I'm still not certain where we sat or how I even felt about it.

"Lex?" I groaned to myself. Beautiful, dangerous boy. His voice deep, joyful, and questioning all at the same time.

Apparently I hadn't been quiet enough. Pulling myself together, I turned around to see Clark standing at the door. "Hey, Clark."

"I, uh, I thought you'd be at the plant today." It would have been amusing to see Clark shuffle his feet around if this whole situation wasn't so awkward.

"I was bored." Which was the truth, just not the whole truth. I'm not sure why I came to town.

"Only you would find that a good excuse to get out of work, Lex." Clark smiled, half ready to laugh and half annoyed at my work ethic.

"I thought so." I tucked my hands into my pockets and smiled back.

"Hey, Lana? Are we done?" Clark called over his shoulder. It felt almost normal between us; the way things were everyday. Maybe the space _thing_ did work after all.

"Yes, thanks for all your help, Clark." Lana, Smallville's resident prom queen in training and the object of Clark's affection, smiled in our direction barely acknowledging Clark's departure as she locked the door. Someday that girl would realize how exceptional Clark was and I would be out one best friend. Pete Ross and I would be in the same boat. Vying for what scraps of attention he'd spare. It's humbling to realize that you know something will end.

"You want to talk or something?" Clark shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and stood in typical Clark fashion…with his shoulders hunched against the world, red flannel like a shield around the rest of his body and white t-shirt underneath. Why did he have to be so damn good-looking?

"Sure, I've got an hour or so. What time do you have to be home?"

"I thought you were bored, that's why you were in town?"

"That doesn't mean I don't have plans for later, Clark." We started walking down Main Street. After six months, people had stopped staring at us, but the sight of a Luthor in town always seemed to turn heads. I wondered what we must have looked like that first month - the young clean-cut farm boy and the son of evil incarnate, Lionel Luthor. The thought still has the ability to amuse me.

"Sorry."

"For what?" I shrugged.

"You're busy. I keep forgetting you have a business to run."

"Clark..." God, if I didn't already know I was in love with the boy, I would have right then. So insecure, unsure of where he stood, guilty. I'd hand him the world on a silver platter if I could.

"What?" Poor confused boy.

"You aren't intruding. I'm just expecting my tailor at the castle later this evening. It's nothing important, but I can't cancel it." I touched his arm to emphasize my point. It's a guilt pleasure that I like to allow myself. "You're more than welcome to come and watch the annual torture event." That pulled one of the Clark Kent famous grins out of hiding. It's also on my list of favorite things to do when bored - make Clark smile.

"Something new for the party in Metropolis?" Clark had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk; you could literally see the gears working behind his eyes. As if he's trying to figure something out that he doesn't understand.

"Yes."

"Why are you going?" I suppose to Clark, my way of life must be confusing. Not so black and white. Nothing is ever simple.

"As the heir to the throne, I have to put in an appearance." Then, I leaned in to whisper dramatically letting my shoulder brush against his. "Besides, it will keep my father happy for at least another month."

Clark laughed, but grew serious again all to quickly. "Do you do everything your father asks?"

"Do you?" Always answer a question with a question when you need time to think.

"You didn't answer my question, Lex." Clark bumped into me this time, only not as casually or innocently. Typical teenage thing to do and he's got to be the only one with enough guts to do it.

"No, I didn't, did I?" I smirked.

"Lex." He drew my name out which only made me laugh. I needed to think about my answer carefully. He probably wouldn't understand why I was going anymore than he understood the need to keep Victoria on a short leash. My father's games aside, Clark was still my friend. I knew he wasn't going to like my answer, but I couldn't delay any longer.

"My father expects me to marry. I'm inspecting candidates."

"That's cold, Lex." Clark sobered immediately.

"It's the way things are, Clark." I sounded so conceited; the worldly man imparting wisdom to his younger friend.

"But what about what _you_ want?" What. I. Want. I want so much, too much sometimes. Clark always made it sound so simple, easy to just turn my back on my father. Nothing was ever that easy. Not even Clark, least of all the gorgeous sixteen year old who was walking next to me waiting intently for an answer I couldn't give.

I did my best to keep my emotions off of my face. What I planned to do was remain a bachelor as long as possible. The less time I had to spend catering to a wife I didn't want, the happier I'd be. "What I want doesn't matter."

"How can you be so, I don't know, unconcerned?" Clark was horrified.

"It's just the way things work, Clark. It's all about money and power." Lots of power, lots of money, and sometimes, if you're really lucky, for love - not that it ever lasts.

"I don't think I like your world, Lex. I'd think you'd want more."

"Clark..." I had to make an appearance at the party, if for no other reason than to convince my father I was playing his game. I could only hold him off for so long before he disowned me. I couldn't afford for that to happen. I had too many plans. "I need to go for a drive."

"Lex." Clark grabbed my arm before I could get in.

"Clark, let go of my arm." Anyone else would have backed off right then, but not him. Clark never backed off.

"Why won't you answer the question?" Intense, so god damn intense. Middle America morals. You marry for love, because you want to.

"Let it go, Clark." I didn't want to discuss this. Not here, not now, but again, Clark wasn't going to let the subject die.

"No." There was barely six inches between us, personal space all but gone. Any closer and we could just give up the pretense of being friends. Already we were drawing strange looks.

"Yes." I pulled on my arm, letting my annoyance show through.

"What? Are you afraid of what people will think, Lex? See a weakness? I thought Luthor's didn't care about other people's opinions." The boy was bristling with anger. I could almost believe he was angry for me and not at me.

"I'm proving to be the exception to many of the rules, Clark." Sardonic smile that only seemed to piss him off more.

"Fine." Clark let me go. "Run away. Hide."

"I'm not running. Get in the car, Clark. You're coming with me. I just prefer to discuss this someplace less _public_." If I wasn't so irritated, I would have laughed at the look on his face. He didn't expect me to give in so easily. We drove off; thankfully not too many people witnessed our fight in the middle of Main Street. Still, in a small town like this, the Luthor heir arguing on the street would get back to my father rather quickly. Christ, just one more reason for him to think I'm fucking Clark and I'm not even getting the benefits.

About twenty minutes from town and well away from prying ears of any kind, I pull onto a dirt road that ran between the cornfields. I didn't want to talk at the castle anymore than I wanted to discuss my private life at the Talon, or on Main Street. Too many eyes and ears with their own agendas. Pulling over, I got out and opened the trunk.

Clark got out and stood next to the car, watching me. "Lex, what are you doing?"

"Getting a blanket."

"You keep blankets in all your cars?"

"Yes."

Clark followed me around, clearly confused. "Why?"

"Because I don't want to ruin the finish when I sit on them." I said like it was the most natural thing in the world. For me, it was, but I suppose for Clark it's not. "Sit."

Clark sat. I lay back on the hood with my hands behind my head, staring up at the clouds. It was just starting to get dark. Soon the stars would be out and I would be due back at the castle.

Clark turned slightly so that he could see me from the corner of his eye. "I don't understand."

"I need my father for the time being, Clark, so I have to play the game by his rules. That means I have to at least attempt to look for a wife, but I won't be able to hold him off forever. I'm supposed to marry and produce an heir." I scooted closer to Clark letting my leg rest against his knee. "Right now he controls the board."

"And you're willing to marry someone like Victoria who'd be as likely to stab you in the back as she is to lie, just to win some stupid game?" It wasn't as simple as that, or maybe it was. Either way, the answer was the same.

"Yes."

"It's that important to you?" Clark was clearly trying to understand this strange way of thinking; the necessity of sacrifice.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because if I want to do what I want in life, I need to make some sacrifices. I'm willing to make those to get where I'm going. One day I'm going to own LuthorCorp, Clark. I'm going to run it my way. Not my father's way, not the way a bunch of old men who've never been outside the staid doors of the LuthorCorp building, and most certainly not the way that has the EPA, Greenpeace, and any other nature loving group breathing down my neck."

Clark was paying close attention to everything I said. You'd think he was a reporter filing away everything I said for use in his article later on. He'd stopped playing with his hands and was looking directly at me, watching my every move, every breath. I shifted under his gaze slightly, told my body to get itself under control; this was Clark.

"When I get my hands on the company, I plan to make big changes. I can make small adjustments within the system, like the jobs I saved at the plant when I first got here, but as an owner, just think what I can do! I could even be the Governor or a Senator, Clark." I rolled over to face him, his eyes nearly black in the waning light.

"So, you need what, a trophy wife for that too? Bruce Wayne seems happy enough."

"Bruce doesn't have his eye on the Oval Office. I do." I grinned.

Bruce Wayne, another thorn in my side and a good friend. Ironically. My father has compared me to him for ages. And I in turned did my best to corrupt Bruce. He was good for my sanity. I don't know how many times Bruce kept me from falling over the edge into a world filled with drugs and crime. I'd wake up in Wayne Manor in Gotham City when I should have been well on my way back to Metropolis or dead. Yet another tall, dark, and completely unavailable heterosexual man. They are both poster boys for The Boy Scouts of America.

Say, Clark, if you want to compare yourself to someone from my past, Bruce is perfect.

"So, moving here really hasn't done anything to change you. It was just a way to break from your father to reach your goals?" Clark turned away to look out over the cornfield. I've managed to piss him off again.

"Being here had everything to do with it, Clark. You had everything to do with it. You saved me. Before you pulled me out of the river, I had a one-way ticket to hell. Most of my life has been about pissing off my father. While it's fun to irritate him occasionally, I've got more important things to do now. I have a future to build." I laid a hand on his arm, but he only shrugged it off.

"So, what's her name?"

I flopped back on the hood, staring off at the sky again. "I have no idea, probably the daughter of one of my father's business partners. Someone with money and power, yes, but less of an agenda than Victoria. Marriage is a business, Clark. It has to be handled with finesse, a calculated merger rather than a hostile takeover."

Clark was studying his hands as if they held some lifeline, some mystical answer. "And what happens if you fall in love with someone? What then?"

It's a little late for that, Clark. It was too late six months ago. "Then I fall in love and it lasts for however long it lasts."

"That seems so cold, Lex." Clark glanced over his shoulder at me.

I had to laugh. "Don't tell me you believe in happily ever after? It doesn't exist, Clark. It's a fairy tale. Tell me that you won't love someone else besides Lana in the future." I was being unnecessarily cruel but better he learn now than later.

"I don't love her, Lex. She was just a crush."

"Was?"

"I'm over it."

Over. It. Oh Christ, I couldn't go through this again. Doe-eyed, vapid princess that she was, at least Lana Lang was a known entity. "I'm sorry to hear that. So who is it this week?" Chloe? Please let it be Chloe. Cute, dedicated, adored Clark, and more personality in her little finger than Lana had in her whole body.

Frustrated, Clark got up off of the hood and started pacing. "There's not one person you'd like to spend the rest of your life with? That you…" Clark struggled to find the right word. "Respect enough, want enough?"

I could either tell him the truth right now or lie. Either way, I stood to lose something important in my life. If I told him the truth, he'd never understand how I could go to Metropolis this weekend and look over this season's bevy of beauties. And if I lied, I might lose his respect.

"So there is someone." Okay, saying nothing worked just as well.

"Yes."

"Does she know?"

Slightly edgy laughter. "No." Get yourself together, Lex.

"It's not a girl."

"How perceptive of you." I felt another smirk coming on. Clark was extremely bright, picking up on the smallest of clues. You just never knew when or if he would play them.

"And that's definitely not in the cards?"

"No. As my father would say, 'It's just not done.'" I did a passable imitation of my father. Enough to bring a grin to Clark's face. "It's going to be hard enough to make it to the Senate or on the Governor's ticket without the world knowing I'm bi, Clark. I'm not sure I'd be willing to put someone I love through the kind of hate that they could expect when I run for office."

"Lex?"

I looked over at him. Now that my sexuality was out in the open, it was harder to hide my interest in Clark. So long as things remained innocent, I could manage. "Yes?"

Clark was looking at me strangely, perhaps it was pity. Wouldn't be the first time. "It sounds very lonely."

"I'll be able to do a lot of good, Clark. There are so many things I could change. I could get rid of the ridiculous sodomy laws. Support farm groups and initiatives. Open more avenues for government grants for the small growers and protection from Bank foreclosures during droughts and other natural disasters. And just think how far we can push health education and expansion into medical research. I have all this money, Clark and nothing to do with it."

"It still sounds lonely, Lex. Who would be there to share it with you?"

"You have to give to take, Clark. It's a hard lesson to learn. When I get there, it'll be reward enough." I didn't add the silent, so long as I have you, I'll never be alone. Sure, I'd have to share him with the world, but he'd be _there_. That's all that was important.

I don't think my answer satisfied him, but he seemed willing to finally drop it. "Lex, really stupid question."

Smiling and leaning on my elbow, I humored him. "Didn't anyone ever tell you there are no stupid questions?"

"Why are we sitting out here in the middle of cornfield instead of your house?"

Good question, Clark. Do you want the real answer or the sanitized version? Better go with latter. "Because I didn't want every word of this conversation getting back to my father. Clark, I like you. You're a great guy."

Clark snorted. "You sound like someone in a teen movie getting ready to break up with the female lead character, Lex."

I fell against the hood of the car and just laughed. "It's your fault, Clark. You and Chloe made me watch that deplorable drivel last weekend."

"Hey, don't blame it on us! You've got it in your video collection."

"I have a variety of material for my guests to choose from. Never let it be said that a Luthor is unprepared."

"Don't you mean, _you_?"

I laughed again. My father would never have teen angst in his collection. Godfather parts I, II, and III, as well as select war movies that emphasized the importance of winning, yes, but nothing that was just _fun_. "Yes, you are probably right, Clark."

He snorted again. "I _know_ I'm right."

I chuckled. I did buy, or more accurately, had someone else buy for me the most popular movies. Some, I'd seen, most I hadn't. They were for Clark.

"You caught me. Yet another reason to believe I was adopted from aliens on another planet." _That_ seemed to be the wrong thing to say. There were times when Clark acted extremely strange.

"So, uh, your dad is watching you?" Clark sat back down, back to staring at the ground. Sometimes I'd swear he never make a good poker player and then at others, he is so convincing you'd never know he was lying. Not unless you already knew the truth.

"Like a hawk."

"And that's the only reason?"

"Should there be another?" I answered.

"No. No, just wondering. Are you trying to change the subject again?" Clark relaxed against the hood of the car for the first time since we'd driven out here.

"Well, the weather's nice and didn't you promise to teach me the constellations one night. Now is as good a time as any." I grinned playing right along. Too many questions I didn't want to answer. I'd already said more than I should have. It was important that no one in Smallville got the wrong idea about Clark. I'd played the game when I first started exploring my sexuality, but I already knew I wasn't straight. In the city, it's difficult enough. Only money and my father's name kept me from being beat up or worse. In a small town like this? I didn't hold out hope for tolerance. I might be untouchable, but Clark wasn't. He had to live here. I cared about _him_. What _he_ thought of me.

Clark, laughing as he slid off the hood, countered back, "Isn't your tailor going to be mad that you aren't there?"

"Fuck!" I jumped up, grabbed the blanket, and tossed it into the back seat. "Do you need an engraved invitation? Get in, Clark!"

I swear, if he doesn't stop laughing, as soon as I'm finished with the tailor I'm going to make him pay for that. Still snickering, Clark commanded as he gets in, "Home, Lex," and waved imperiously with his hand.

"Your father is right. I _am_ a bad influence on you." Gunning the engine, I sped down the road. I was already half an hour late and I still had to drop Clark off.

"Lex?"

"What?"

"Your home. I'll call my folks from there." Finally, something was going right.

The castle was in chaos when I returned. I never thought I'd live to see the day when my normally unflappable staff would come apart at the seams. And in the midst of it stood a tiny grey haired man with an extremely powerful voice.

"No, no, no. This will not do. Do you want Mr. Luthor to take his business elsewhere? To think we are too poor to afford his tastes? I want the lavender silk. Find it. And the charcoal. Now!" My tailor stopped mid-tirade to greet me. "Mr. Luthor."

"Lex, please, Charles." I detested that name.

"Lex. How are you? It's been too long." He grabbed my hand and held it in both of his, just like we'd been friends who'd not seen each other in years.

"It's only been a six months, Charles." I chuckled. "I see you are still as demanding as ever."

"Only the best for my customers." Charles Van Griff had been the tailor for three generations of Luthors. If there was one thing my father did know, it was clothing and who made the best. Charles adapted the latest lines from all the big name designers to fit our measurements perfectly. Cloth was shipped in at a moments notice, cut, marked, fitted, sewn, and hemmed in a matter of hours if necessary. An entire wardrobe could be created in two weeks.

"I take it my staff have been making themselves useful while I was delayed?" I poured myself a scotch holding up another glass in Charles direction.

"No, thank you." Charles shook his head and started directing traffic again as bolts of material began to appear in the study. "Your people are as efficient as always, Lex. Now, that you've finally deigned to make an appearance, shall we get to work?"

"One moment. Clark?" I looked around for the boy and found him hiding in a corner as Charles and his assistants began to divest me of my clothes. "Didn't you say something about calling home?"

Startled out of wherever his mind had wondered, Clark stuttered. "Uh, right. Where…?" He came out of the shadows and started looking for the phone that was currently buried somewhere under piles of fabric.

"Try the one in the kitchen." I chuckled at his embarrassed nod as he took off for a quieter section of the castle - preferably one where people wore more clothes. What did he think - that I would chose a suit from something already made? I laughed silently. He probably did.

"What I could do with that body." Charles shook his head, as he noted inseams, length, and all those other things that tailors do with measuring tapes.

"You and me both." I muttered under my breath.

"Red." Charles paused and made another notation. "And blue, royal blue."

"I don't think red is my color." I smirked at Charles obvious distraction. He had taste, you had to give him that much.

"I meant for your young friend there. Casual shirts for out on the town at a club. Navy Blue suits with polished midnight or blood red silk ties. And brilliant white shirts underneath. You want to bring out the color of his eyes and the contrasting colors of his skin." Charles was suppressing a smile. I could tell he wanted to laugh, and at my expense.

"Matchmaking, Charles?" I tried to look stern.

"I'd never presume to do such a thing, Mr. Luthor." Charles stood tall, his mouth quivering as he teased.

"Yes, you would," I laughed. "And Clark's just a friend." I leaned down to whisper in his ear after making sure that Clark wasn't around. "Can you make him something by Friday? A tux and simple suit that he can wear in Dolcie's without feeling out of place?"

He thought about it for a minute, rubbing a gnarled hand along his chin. "I'll have to take his measurements."

"You'll have to do it without him knowing. If I know Clark, and I do, he'll refuse."

"Not a problem." Charles patted my hand. "You just leave it to me."

The next three hours were spent watching Clark dance around Charles attempts to get him to help with choosing colors for me. The entire time, Clark had no idea what was going on. How Charles watched with the eyes of an eagle over which bolts Clark's hands lingered. He'd signal to an assistant to put it to the side as a possible.

He'd drape his measuring tape around Clark's neck while he fussed with the dart in my jacket. After adjusting a pin or two, he'd used both hands to take the tape off of Clark, thumbs marking the size of Clark's neck. Only someone who's been through the whole process would know what was going on. Clark was so out of his element and in the hands of master.

Next Charles draped a length of dark wool over Clark's shoulder. "Hold that. I need to make markings on that piece." He turned back to me and then stretched the material down Clark's arm. "What do you think of this one, Lex?"

"No. It'll be too warm for wool. Something lighter." Again, Charles took a measurement without Clark being any the wiser. I could get to like this. A lot.

Charles had pushed, prodded, and turned Clark in so many directions that by the time he was finished making my new tux, Clark's suit was almost finished as well. I was going to figure out a way to take Clark with me to Metropolis this weekend. If I had to suffer through that party on Friday with dozens of simpering sycophants, I wanted someone to come home to who was real. Even if I had to bring Mr. & Mrs. Kent with him. Hell, I load the shotgun and leave it by the door for Jonathan.

I knew that they were going to put up a fuss over the suit, but I didn't care. It made me happy to see Clark in nice clothes. I might even be able to convince Clark's parents into letting him keep the suit, if not the tux. He'd get a couple of good years out of it, if he didn't grow again.

"I'm exhausted." Clark fell onto the couch after Charles left. "How do you do it?"

"Years of practice, Clark." I dropped onto the couch with him, just enjoying the sudden silence. "You want something to eat? Drink?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Good, because I had no intentions of moving."

Friday morning arrived with overcast skies and a flurry of activity as the household rushed about settling last minute details. My assistant followed me around as I barked orders for the weekend, scheduled a last minute meeting with an investor who I needed to see while I was in the city, and checked to make sure the penthouse was aired and ready for our arrival.

My bags were packed and in the car. All that was left to do was to get Clark. Things had turned out better than I planned. It hadn't been as hard as I thought it would be to get Clark's parents to agree to Metropolis. I had to promise on my life that nothing would happen to Clark to Mrs. Kent. She had a copy of our plans for the weekend along with phone numbers where we could be reached at any time. For the most part, it would be boring by my standards. A trip to the museum on Sunday, a football game on Saturday, and the party tonight I had to attend.

That was the selling point it turned out. There would be photographers everywhere. Chaperoned by millions of eyes, Martha couldn't find fault with my plans.

What my father was going to make of the whole thing was a different matter entirely. I'd know tonight. I'm sure his moles had told him all about the money I spent on Clark. Luthor's did not spend money on commoners, unless they were fucking them. I snorted as I got into the car, and headed for the farm. If there was one thing I was going to prove to my father, it was that I could have friends. There was more to life than sex, money, and power.

"Lex!" I was grabbed into a short bear hug as I got out and then rejected in favor of my car as Clark started examining it.

"Oh man, a Jag!" So, the choice of cars didn't go unappreciated. I figured it would be more comfortable for the long trip as well as keeping up appearances in Metropolis. "Mr. Kent." We shook hands. Clark's dad looked anything but pleased. Martha chose that moment to come out on the porch, as Clark was stuffing his luggage in the back. "Mrs. Kent, nice to see you again."

"Lex, this car rocks! Can I drive it?" Clark bounded over and slapped me on the back. I stumbled slightly and two sets of hands immediately reached out to steady me. Surprisingly, one pair belonged to Mr. Kent. "Sorry." Clark immediately looked contrite.

"Not a problem and," I glanced at Clark's dad for permission, "no on the driving issue."

"See that it stays that way."

"Yes, sir." Having passed muster, Jonathan left to talk quietly with Clark while I spoke to Martha.

"Lex." She wrung her hands together. "You'll drive carefully?"

"Yes, ma'am. My assistant called with our itinerary?"

"I have it right here. I'm taking a big chance and trusting you, Lex."

"I won't let you down, Mrs. Kent."

"See that you don't, Luthor." I flinched slightly. I doubt that I'd ever earn Jonathan's approval, but someday I hoped he'd at least not hate me.

"Lex! Come on!" Clark called, anxious to get on the road.

I smiled over at him, shook hands with his parents again and walked back to my car. "We'll be home Sunday night around ten."

"I'll be expecting you." When was the last time my father ever said he'd be waiting for me come home? When it wasn't because he was mad at me? I can't remember. I closed my door and started to drive.

The party was a success; I, on the other hand, was bored. Not a good combination by anyone's standards - Lex Luthor, alcohol, boredom, and a room full of corruptible people, with one minor exception.

"Alexander."

"Dad."

"Enjoying yourself?"

"Not really." I took a sip of my scotch. "You?"

"I'm having a wonderful time." My father dropped an arm across my shoulders, affecting parental support for the photographers roaming around the room. "Have you seen Victoria?"

"No. I wasn't looking for her either. Should I be?" Dry humor that was sure to piss off the old man.

"What nasty claws you have, Lex." My dad finished off his drink and dropped the glass onto the tray of a passing waiter. "Where did your boyfriend run off to?"

Sighing, I pulled away from my father and looked around the room yet again. "He ran off to the men's room as I'm sure you are fully aware of. And he's not my…"

"Yes, yes, I know. He's not your boyfriend. Yet he's here, attached like glue to your side when you should be circulating." My father sounded annoyed.

A sneaking suspicion began to form. "Dad? Where's Clark?"

"He's been detained. Don't worry, I haven't harmed a hair on his pretty head." Lionel derided. "He does clean up nicely though. I can't fault your taste. You've had the eye of everyone in here since you arrived." My father leaned shoulder to shoulder as if imparting some great wisdom. "Just remember what you are here to accomplish, Lex. You wouldn't want anything to happen to your _friend_."

It was then that I knew I had to step up my plans. I would have to be careful, but not too careful. There's an old saying; keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. A saying my father drilled into my head and Dad just became enemy number one.

"A friend is a weakness that you can't afford, Alexander. Remember that." My father walked away blending into the mass of people with false smiles. Clark just became a commodity to be exploited. Fuck. I should have known better. By detaining Clark, he was merely flexing his muscles to show what he could do - even in public. I had to get Clark out of here. Now.

"Lex." There was too much relief in that voice.

Grabbing the boy by the hand, I dragged him off to the coat check. I couldn't have made myself plainer to everyone present. Lex Luthor was off the market. My father be damned.

"Lex!" Clark choked out as we retrieved our coats. "What are you doing?"

"Taking your advice." I turned on my heel, leaving one very pissed off father standing at the end of the hallway as if I didn't have a care in the world. By this time tomorrow, whatever he had planned wouldn't matter. "Are you okay?" I didn't see any signs of foul play, but Clark blushed, his eyes darting around nervously. I'd have to grill him on later. "Save it. Lets get out of here."

He grinned from ear to ear. "It's about time."

I handed my ticket to the valet and started counting.

"Alexander, a word." Well, he took longer than I thought. I'd made it to ten.

I looked back over my shoulder where my father stood stiffly at the door. "No."

"Now." That was the voice my father used when he expected the world to obey his every whim or there would be hell to pay. Strangely, it had no affect on me anymore. This whole night was becoming extremely surreal. Freeing.

The attendant arrived with my car and the air seemed to thicken. You could have cut the tension with a knife; the attendant trying to make himself invisible on the side, Clark shifting nervously from foot to foot, Victoria and Rick behind my father in the lobby with twin expressions of pleasure combined with panic, and my father pompous, immobile, and every inch the lion his name proclaimed him to be. It all screamed danger.

"Later, Dad. I have business to take care of. Call and make an appointment with my assistant. I'm sure she'll be more than happy to help you. Until then," I paused to make my stance perfectly clear. "I'm completely unavailable."

"You will regret this." There was a sparkle of pride in my father's eyes as I opened my car door. Dysfunctional had nothing on us. We defined as well as defied the meaning.

Accepting his challenge, I scoffed. "I doubt it. Get in Clark." We drove off, heading for the penthouse.

"Lex, are you sure you know what you are doing?"

"Something I should have done long ago," I laughed. God it felt good. I had a lot of work to do in the next twenty-four hours. Hopefully Clark would forgive me.

"What was that all about?"

"Taking away my father's leverage."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't worry about it." I shrugged. "Are you okay?"

Clark turned several shades of red. "Uh, yeah."

I glanced over at Clark. "What did she do?" I should have taken Victoria out when I found out she was another one of my father's minions.

"No…nothing!" A stammering Clark is not good.

"But she tried." And from the look on Clark's face, she had help.

Clark rubbed his hands on his pants and took a deep breath before answering. "Yes."

"And you're okay?" Clark was my responsibility. I should have been keeping a closer eye on him.

"I'm fine." He nodded.

"You're sure?"

"Yes, Lex. I'm sure." He was too. His confidence was back in full force.

There were five messages on my answering from my father when we got back to the penthouse. I erased them all. I couldn't ignore the envelope that had been delivered, however.

"What's that?" Clark tried to look over my shoulder but I quickly closed the flap before he could see the pictures. So - Dad wanted to play games.

"Nothing important. You hungry?" I was starving. The food at the party was barely edible and I'm sure that Clark was ready for some normal everyday fare. I dug around in the refrigerator for some things I had my cook prepare ahead of time. "Well, there's some Beef Bourguignon, Vitello Tonnato, and there's spaghetti, but you don't want that."

"I'll take the spaghetti."

"Clark, didn't I just say that you didn't?"

"Yup." The boy grinned from ear to ear. "It's the only normal thing you have in there."

Laughing, I pulled out the spaghetti, which in reality was not the only _normal_ food in the fridge, and stuck it in the microwave. I had fried chicken, hamburgers, and hot dogs too. I just felt like spaghetti. If it's one thing I've learned about Clark, it's that his tastes are simple. Give him a list of food in foreign languages and he'll go for the plain stuff every time.

"So, now that we've thumbed our noses at the cream of Metropolis society, what do you want to do?" I leaned against the counter, crossed my arms, and got comfortable. Clark had already made himself at home at the island.

"You could tell me what that was all about with your dad."

"Business."

"Don't you ever just, I don't know, do stuff with your dad?"

I laughed. "Not my father's style, Clark."

"I don't want to cause problems between you and your dad, Lex. I don't want to be in the middle of whatever game you're playing either."

"I hadn't planned on it, Clark." Which was ironic. "I brought you with me tonight because I didn't want to be bored, not to annoy my father."

"But?"

"But nothing. He made a threat against something that was mine." I shrugged.

"What are you going to do?"

"Right now? Nothing. Tomorrow, I have business I need to take care of in Smallville. I owe you an apology, Clark. I should have warned you about my father. Everything and everyone is a pawn to him when he wants something. Can we catch the game some other time?"

"Sure."

"I promise, Clark. In a few days this will all be over and everything will go back to normal."

The timer on the microwave went off and we ate dinner. Afterwards we stuck in a movie and sat on the floor eating popcorn. All in all, it wasn't a bad evening as evenings go. It was close to eleven when my cell phone went off.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Lex. It's Martha. Can I speak to Clark, please?"

"One moment, Mrs. Kent." I held out the phone to Clark. "It's your mother."

"Yeah, it was great Mom, but we left early." "No, I was having a good time. Lex's Dad said something." "Yeah." "Yeah." "Came back here, watched a movie. Aliens." "No, we're coming home tomorrow." "I dunno."

I left Clark pacing in the living room while he talked to his mother and went to change for bed.

"Hey, Lex…" Clark trailed off, whatever he was going to say forgotten.

"Clark?" He held out the phone, which I took from nerveless hands. "Hello?"

"Lex, is everything all right?"

"Yes, Mrs. Kent. I just have business I need to take care of tomorrow." I watched Clark from the corner of my eye, as he stood motionless in the doorway of my room. I'm not sure what upset him.

"Okay, well what time do you think you'll be getting back?"

"Around noon. Will you be home or should Clark stay over at the castle?"

"No, that's fine. Just drop him by the farm when you get back. We'll expect you at lunch."

"Good night, Mrs. Kent."

"Good night, Lex." I hung up the phone. Clark hadn't moved since he'd given me the phone. "Clark?"

"You don't have hair anywhere?"

Okay, I wasn't expecting that, but I could work with it. "I've got eyebrows, Clark." What was supposed to be taken as a lighthearted comment instead made the boy the blanche. It's one of the reasons I wear long sleeves even in the summer. The shear nudity felt obscene.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"How did you know you liked guys?"

"Uh, Clark. Is this question leading somewhere?"

Clark deflated before my eyes, whatever confidence he had disappearing in a nervous rush of words. "I, uh, just don't, um, - this is hard." It also seemed to break whatever bonds that had held him chained to my bedroom door. Clark started pacing around the room, one hand running through his hair, the other tugging at the bottom of t-shirt. "It's like this…"

I put on my pajama top and sat down on the bed. "Go on."

"Ilikesomeone." Clark mumbled.

"Okay…" I nodded. "What do you want from him?"

"That's the problem. I don't know!"

"Clark, calm down! It's not the end of the world." I patted the spot next to me and Clark flopped down, frustration oozing from every pore.

"That's easy for you to say."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. "It's never easy, Clark. It doesn't matter if it's boys or girls, the rules are all the same."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, first you wonder if they like you back. And then you wonder what it's like to kiss them. If it's your first time, you wonder what sex is like, what it entails."

"What if you really like them and they don't like you back?"

I shrugged. "Then they don't. There're no guarantees in life, Clark. Sometimes the person you like, likes you back. Sometimes you're lucky enough to have them as a best friend."

"Oh." Clark's not stupid; I may as well have just taken out a billboard and posted the bans. At the moment, Clark looked as if he'd been sucker punched. I held my breath. It didn't matter if his answer was yes or no, I just wanted, needed to know if he could live with the fact that I was attracted to him. He was _that_ important to me that I didn't want to lose him.

"Yeah, oh." He seemed to relax after a few minutes. Okay, so obviously he didn't think it was the worst thing in the world to have a Luthor as his friend or interested in him. I grinned, relieved. He smiled back, open, honest, everything I'd come to expect when Clark was happy with something. The one thing I didn't expect to find was interest. In me. His eyes had darkened to a deep green as his smile turned bashful.

I didn't mean for it to happen, but I couldn't resist. I just wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss him. I'd dreamed of it for months. A rather tame version of one of my late night fantasies, but the effect was infinitely more powerful. This is what it felt like to kiss Clark. Touch him. Taste Clark. Who was going to deck me any second now.

Who was kissing me back with all the finesse of a sixteen year old with no experience but who definitely made up for it with enthusiasm. I must be losing my touch. I've missed a few clues along the way.

"I guess this means we can't say we're friends anymore?" Clark asks as we both stop to breathe.

"Friends, only better." I correct. I can't have him thinking all I wanted to do was to get in his pants. I like Clark. A lot. And I can't stop touching him. Can't stop looking, can't stop wanting him and wondering just how far I can take this little interlude before I've gone too far. "Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"You know how to say no, right?"

"Lex, that is just about the stupidest thing you've said all day."

"Just checking." Okay, so my conscience is clear now. I've given Clark a way out if he needs it. Told him in my own unique way that I'll stop when he says so. "Clark, I have to know what you like, what you want."

"I don't know. Could we go back to the kissing thing?"

"Yes. God, yes." He pulled me close, his hands slipping underneath my shirt, and God, the feel. Smooth - rough palms sliding up my back as his tongue sneaked inside my mouth. Each touch is like asking permission before moving on. His cock is hot and hard against my thigh.

I want to touch him all over. Taste him all over. I don't want to miss a spot. I break the kiss for a moment as I help him out of his t-shirt. His chest is as smooth as I remembered it, from that first time when I found him hanging on the cross. Pushing him flat on the bed, I look my fill. "Don't move."

How do you describe perfection? Dark pupils dilated to the point where they obliterated any color in the half-light. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to bring his body under control. His hands fisted into the comforter, twisting the bedding to the point where it would probably be ruined in the morning. I didn't care.

I reached out and ran my hand from his stomach up to his neck tracing the collarbone before leaning down to place a kiss just below his navel. His stomach twitched underneath my lips and I smiled.

I licked his stomach and Clark arched underneath my hands. Oh God, what a gift I'd been given. There was only one other time in my life when I had someone this sensitive and responsive in my bed. I'd barely touched Clark and he was already moaning, panting as if he'd just run ten miles. Every brush of my fingers across his chest, tiny breath blown across his nipples, every lick, caress, and gentle bite left him a quivering mass of want.

Fuck.

I was lost in the rush and I'd barely even begun. I wanted everything he had to give and more. I slipped my fingers beneath the waistband of his pants and Clark nearly bucked up off the bed. I started whispering _'it's okay'_ over and over again in his ear. I was going to have to take the edge off or this would be more pain than pleasure.

Searching for the clasp on his pants, I quickly unbutton, unzipped and then started pulling them off. I kept up my mantra while Clark tried to breathe. He broke off yet another loud, needy whimper by biting his lip as I slid the pants down his hips. The boxers were next and Clark was barely able to hold still long enough for me to get them off.

Not wasting a second, I grabbed his cock, deep throating him as I pushed his boxers and pants the rest of the way off. I road out the thrashing and moaning until Clark was back to panting. That was my cue that he was ready and I cautiously sucked and licked my way up and down his cock. I was careful not to over stimulate him; Clark was already close. It wouldn't take much to push him over the edge.

"Lex…" Clark pleaded as he grabbed the headboard and held on tight. "God, Lex, please." The sound of Clark begging was probably the sweetest sound on the planet; deep, breathless, needy sounds that went straight to my cock. He tasted better than I thought humanly possible. So much more than anything I'd imagined. One last twist and lick and I took Clark down my throat humming. That's all it took. He came crying out my name.

Fuck, I was charged. My body thrumming. Better than drugs or alcohol or corporate takeovers. I licked him clean and rested my head on his thigh trying to catch my own breath. I wanted to fuck him so badly. Or have him fuck me. Didn't really care at this point.

"Wow."

"There's more where that came from. If you want, that is."

"God, yes. Please, Lex. Show me."

"Whatever you want, Clark. Whatever you want." I stripped the rest of my clothes off and kissed him again. I was going to show him _everything_. We could sleep in the limo on the way home tomorrow. I'd leave the jag in the city with the garage.

I was at peace for the first time in my life since my mother's death. Just being with Clark made me feel good. Being able to share, it was - heaven. I didn't know the how or the why, but I wasn't going to question it, Clark was here, in my bed. If only I could make this night last forever.

"Can I, uh…" Clark was touching me, exploring. I could barely concentrate on his words.

"Whatever you want, Clark. We only go as far as you are comfortable." God, I could come from his touching me alone. Clark isn't the only one with sensitive skin. The way his fingers were running up and down my back in a lazy pattern was going to drive me insane.

"I want, um - I want to know - god, help me out here, Lex."

"What comes next?" I smiled.

"Yeah."

"Usually you take care of your partner."

"How do I do that?"

I didn't think he was ready to learn how to give a blowjob. He was already questioning his sexuality. I didn't want to push him too far and fuck; I wanted to come myself. The safest alternative I could think of at the moment was a hand job - with Clark in control. "What do you know about gay sex, Clark?"

"Uh, only what I've read on the internet."

"So, you've at least explored your options."

"Yeah." God, his eyes were so green when he was turned on.

"You could jerk me off?" Clark lit up like a teenager with his first Ferrari. Hmm…maybe he was more ready than I gave him credit for. "Or…you could fuck me?"

Clark gasped, his eyes grew wide, and his nose flared. "I'd…I'd like that."

I rolled away and dug in the nightstand for the lube and a condom before Clark changed his mind. If he did, I don't think I could handle it.

"Wha…What do I do?"

"Just relax." I tore open the wrapper of the condom and rolled it on Clark. He hissed as my fingers grazed over his quickly hardening cock. "Always use a condom, Clark, unless you are in a monogamous relationship and you know your partner is clean. Even then it's still a good idea."

"Okay." Clark's breathing became erratic as I stroked him to full hardness.

"It also helps to take away from some of the sensitivity. So you don't come as quickly." I grabbed the lube, opened it, and squeezed some onto my fingers. "Then you prepare your partner. Give me your hand." I rubbed the lube around his first two fingers and pulled him over onto his side lying down next to him. I threw my leg over his thighs. "You sh - should always rub first." I showed him how, his hand following mine as he explored this new area of my body.

Instinct seemed to take over at that point as he gently pushed his finger inside. I hissed as the first ring of muscle was breached and the erotic sensation of push - pull began. I loved this; it's part anticipation, part ecstasy, and part reality fragmenting.

"Are you all right, Lex?" Clark stopped moving his finger and I was so frustrated I was about to incinerate. Too long, too long, too long.

"Yes, yes…don't stop, Clark. Fuck, please don't stop." Clark pushed further inside and quickly found a rhythm that was both pleasing and tormenting. Just the feel of his finger inside me was turning me into jelly. I rubbed my cock against his, keeping the friction going, sharing the pleasure he was pulling from me. God, I could keep this up all night.

The next thing I know, Clark's pulled his finger out, and grabbed the lube. "I need - I've just got - I need to be inside you, Lex."

"Yes." I turned over, making this as easy as possible. Anticipation was making my legs shake and, God, I just wanted. Every bone in my body was agreeing with my cock, begging to be fucked into tomorrow, next week, next month, next year, just Jesus Christ, please, Clark, fuck me now.

I must have said that last part out loud because Clark was slowly pushing inside and, fuck, I was a puddle of raw nerves.

Everything was screaming more, harder, faster, and Clark was just being so _careful_ , I couldn't stand it. It was my turn to buck and thrash and twist trying to get Clark to give me _more_ , to - _please, Clark, please_. I seize the headboard for leverage, my fingers finding groves that worked perfectly for gripping. Clark finally got the hint and it became rough and fumbling and erratic and just, oh God, no way to hold onto the headboard when all I wanted was _more_.

Clark laced his fingers with mine, keeping me from moving until I'm literally howling with the need to be touched. It's just been so long, too long, too long. Every stroke was like fire and ice.

I need. I want. Christ! "Please, Clark." I'll beg if that's what it takes.

Clark shifted slightly and just, Jesus Fucking Christ. Blinding pleasure shot through every pore in my body. He laughed softly in my ear and damn it, if I wasn't so needy right now, I'd throw him down and _fuck_ him. Then Clark found a rhythm and I shuddered, pushed against him, gave him everything I've had.

He strikes that spot again and I'm coming so hard I think I'll just die right now. It's an exquisite pleasure - pain that just doesn't stop. Pulse after pulse emptying from my body as Clark speeds up to reach his own pleasure. I'm trembling with the need to just hang on a few more seconds. I want to feel Clark as he comes, hear him.

Then he's there, his arms shaking with the strain, crying out my name. Christ, it was everything I thought it would be and more.

_I love you, Clark._

It just slips out, a silent promise to give him anything he ever wants. I can't say the words out loud. It's just not in my nature. There's too much that can go wrong, so I told him the only way I know how. I can only hope it was enough.

I feel the loss intimately as he pulls from my body. Sighing, I roll over, caress his cheek, and look for indications that he's okay with everything that's happened tonight. "How do you feel?"

His thoughts are hidden. That's not a good sign. "Good. Really good." He runs his hands over my body. "Are you - I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, Clark, I'm fine." I grin. "Better than fine."

He smiled back, but it wasn't the kind of smile I wanted to see. It was sad. I closed my eyes and put on my _friend_ mask. "Come on, farm boy. Lets get clean up." The experiment was over.

I woke up the next morning to find my name all over the social pages. This could only have been the work of my father. _Luthor Heir Rejects the Bells of the Ball in Favor of Mystery Date._ The article went on to detail my movements throughout the night, not once mentioning the several women I did dance with. Clark's name wasn't revealed, for which I'm sure I owe to whatever lawyers the papers had on staff.

The problem wasn't Metropolis. It wouldn't be the first time that I'd been seen in the company of men. It would be back home in Smallville. It would be an easy matter of having the paper print a retraction the following day, but the damage would already be done.

I was dead. Clark's father was going to kill me. I just had to hold him off for a few days and then I wouldn't care.

Okay, first things first, I could use this to my advantage. I called the paper and asked to speak to Society Editor. After a long talk we came to a mutual agreement; they would print a retraction, but not until Tuesday, and I would be available for an interview later today.

After I got off the phone, I went to wake up Clark. We weren't going to make it home by lunch after all.

Clark called his parents while I drove us to my office at LuthorCorp Tower. From the one-sided conversation that I could hear, his parents wanted him home right now. I offered him the limo but he refused. And he refused to let his parents speak to me or me to them.

"This is my fault too, Lex. My life. You aren't pushing me aside this time."

I knew better than to argue with Clark when he got this stubborn. I could hear his dad cursing over the phone line. "I hope you know what you're in for, Clark." I gunned the engine and sped down the street. We didn't have much time.

"I can handle it."

"Okay."

Clark turned his attention back to the phone and after speaking quietly with his parents for a few more minutes and then hung up just as we arrived at the Tower.

I walked into my office to find a stranger sitting at my desk.

"Can I help you?"

"Hello, Mr. Luthor." The man plastered an evil grin on his face the moment he saw Clark. "This must be the boy toy."

"And you must be one of my father's lackeys." I gestured for him to remove himself from my chair and sat down. "What does dear old dad want?"

"He wants to know what your plans are concerning the photographs he sent over last night."

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" The lackey leaned forward in his chair, staring intently at Clark. "I think your young friend there should have some say in the matter, don't you?"

Clark bristled and step forward, violence projecting from every pore in his body. I stopped him with a hand to his arm. "You can tell my father that if he so much as _breathes_ the wrong way, I'll make sure that every major newspaper in the country has a copy of this conversation _and_ the one from last night." Clark glanced over at me, full of questions and I shook my head imperceptibly. "Now you can toss the slime out the door, Clark."

The man sped from the room as if the hounds of hell were on his feet.

"Lex, what's in the pictures?"

I sighed. I really wanted to have this conversation with Clark and his parents at the same time, but it looked like I didn't have any choice. "They are of you doing your Incredible Hulk routine."

Clark turned white.

"Clark, sit down before you fall down!" I grabbed his arm and sat him in my chair.

"Oh God." Clark hid his face in his hands, thoroughly shaken by the revelation.

I leaned against my desk staying close just in case. "Clark, relax. I've had my people take care of it overnight. The negatives were destroyed. I just don't know how many copies of them were made and where they are. As of now, the pictures can be written off as professional manipulations."

Clark peeked out from between his fingers. "How long have you known?"

"For a while."

"And you let me…"

"Yes."

"Why?"

I shrugged. "Because I didn't have anything to fear from you, Clark." I squeezed his shoulder. "Your secrets are your own. If you want to share them with me, you will, but I also understand why you don't." I wanted to hold him, something, anything, but that small touch was all Clark would allow. He was scared. I could see it written all over his face. He was wondering how much else I knew. "You'll have to discuss what you're going to do with your parents, Clark. I can't help except be there for you. The meteors did strange things to us all. Now, I'm expecting a reporter from The Planet. Why don't you go get something to eat while we talk? The cafeteria should be open by now."

"I thought you didn't talk to reporters."

"I do when they benefit me. I'm going to fight fire with fire. He who controls the army, controls the world, Clark. You should know that." I smirked. "Welcome to the army of the twenty-first century."

That got a grin out of the boy and he disappeared down the hallway. If there was one thing I could count on, it was his stomach to distract him. Not even the leggy brunette who emerged from the elevator deterred him. Pasting a smile on my face, I greeted her. It was game time.

Clark returned just as Ms. Lane, the reporter from The Daily Planet, was leaving. She paused at the door, thoughtful.

"Mr. Luthor, you do realize what the impact of this announcement will have on LuthorCorp?"

"I'm fully aware of the implications, Ms. Lane." I felt positively vindictive at the moment and let it show.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side." She chewed on the end of her pen before making one last notation in her book and stuffed both into her bag.

"I'll be sure to make a note of it."

"Off the record?"

"Yes?"

"What do you plan to do now?"

"The same thing I've always done, Ms. Lane. Run this company."

"I'm sure that's going to make sense to me later on."

"Perfectly."

She left, leaving a trail of Poison in her wake.

Clark fell into one of the chairs across the desk from me. "What was that all about?"

"Business, Clark." I said. "And I learned from the best."

"You aren't your father, Lex." Clark shook his head.

"I am and always will be my father's son." I sighed, rubbing my temples.

For as long as I can remember, my father had been grooming me to take over LuthorCorp. The best schools, the best teachers, the 'right' friends, all designed to train me to fulfill a destiny - Heir to The Luthor Empire. Even my name wasn't immune - Alexander - as in Alexander the Great.

Childhood games were long hours spent in front of a chessboard learning strategies of the mind; the challenge of winning against a superior opponent. Books were not leisure activities, but principles to be learned. The Art of War. Lord of the Flies. Some Machiavellian philosophy, although I prefer Nietzsche.

"So what's next?"

"You may leave me alone with my son." Startled, we both turned to the door where my father stood waiting to visit the wrath of God down on my head. "At least you've done one thing right this morning."

"So nice to see you too, Dad."

"Get out."

"No, Clark. Stay." Clark looked back and forth between my father and me, clearly unsure of what to do. "This concerns you too and you should hear everything that's said. I don't want any mistakes or misquotes coming back to bite me later on."

"You disappoint me, Lex. I thought we had an agreement, you would put aside these childish fancies of yours and I wouldn't disown you. You leave me with little choice."

"I never agreed to anything. You ordered me to show up and I did. I fulfilled your requirements and I brought Clark with me to save from being completely bored out of my mind. I thought he'd enjoy a little culture."

"You thought wrong."

"Did you have fun last night, Clark?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Then all of your complaints mean nothing, Dad."

"Semantics, Lex. Even you couldn't have failed to see the society pages this morning."

"Which you had a hand in arraigning."

"I'm warning you, Alexander. Give up this lifestyle choice of yours now or it will not go well for your young friend. It's up to you. Either pull yourself together or I'll find a place for him in a government lab."

Clark had managed to keep himself out of our argument until then. He picked up my father with one hand, slamming him against a wall. "Don't threaten me, Mr. Luthor."

"Stay away from my son."

"Clark!"

"Smallville is full of freaks just like you, Lex."

"Dad. Now is not the time."

"What, you don't have control over your little boy toy yet, Lex. That's not like you. Fine, I'll handle it my way. Either let me go, Mr. Kent, or you'll find yourself an orphan for the second time in your life."

Clark backed off, but not far enough. I got in between them, keeping a hand on Clark. I shook my head minutely. "Don't worry, Clark. Your parents are perfectly safe, aren't they, Dad?"

My father pulled out his phone and tried dialing his people. They didn't answer. "It would appear so. For the time being."

"I'm going back to Smallville, Dad. Keep your company. Keep your fucking castle. Keep your job. I'll be moving out by the end of the weekend. I won't be controlled, not by you, not by anyone."

"Your trust fund won't last forever, Lex. What will you do then?"

"I'll survive."

"I see you have your mind made up." My dad pulled something from his pocket and handed it to me.

"What's this?"

"Call it a parting gift."

"A scorpion?" I closed the box. It didn't make any sense that I could see.

My father had a slight smirk on his face as if I should know what this meant. "To remind you of who you are."

"As if I could forget."

"Do you remember the story about the scorpion and the frog?"

"I think I vaguely remember it." I stiffened as my father laid his arm across my shoulder.

"Oh, I think you remember every word. I've never known you to forget a lesson before." My father walked away. "It's in our nature, Lex. Never forget that."

"Not mine."

"One day you'll thank me."

"I don't think so."

"You forgot one thing, Mr. Luthor."

"And what's that, Mr. Kent?"

"Lex isn't you."

"I think you better leave, Dad." I walked to the window looking out over the skyline, watching as the sun glinted and shimmered off of the glass. "Pawn takes King. Checkmate."

His fury was a palatable thing. I could feel it from across the room. I turned, knowing that I'd find his hands clinched at his sides, body stiff with anger, betrayal. "This is your legacy, Lex. Everything you've wanted, worked for since you were a boy."

"No, Dad. It's what you wanted." I walked over to the chessboard and placed the Black King on his side. "I want more. Come on, Clark. Lets go home." With that, I walked out of LuthorCorp and my father's life. I deserved better.

I dropped Clark off at his house later that evening. I had stopped the car and was ready to get out, but Clark stopped me.

"No, let me take care of my folks, Lex."

"Clark, it's only fair. I got you into this mess."

"No you didn't. Your dad did. Go home, I'll call you tomorrow." Clark got out, keeping himself between the car and the porch. "Now, Lex."

"See you later, Clark." I didn't feel right about leaving Clark alone with his parents. There was nothing I could do if he wouldn't let me help and with the way his father already felt about me? Clark was probably right, my presence would make things worse.

Clark didn't call on Sunday. I tried calling the farm, but the line was busy. I gave up around seven and would have driven over if my banker hadn't called. It was Monday in Switzerland and I had business to take care of. After all, this was my life at stake now.

The newspaper headlines shocked the business world Monday morning.

_Luthor Heir Turns Back on Empire._

I'd been fielding calls all day. No one understood I hadn't turned my back at all. I merely practiced a form of diversion. Hiding in plain sight.

I really need to frame this headline.

"Lex?"

I spun around. "Clark?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Something to drink?" At his nod, I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge for myself and tossed another to Clark. "Right now I'm the richest man in the world, Clark. I'm not hurting."

"I don't understand."

"No, I suppose not." I started laughing, laughed so hard tears rolled down my face.

"Lex?" Clark was thoroughly confused now and starting to get concerned. There were two people in the world that knew what I had done; my banker and myself. And my banker was sworn to secrecy. Where did I even begin to explain?

"Clark?" Jonathan Kent called from the hallway.

"In here, Dad!" Reporters and security surrounded the place and yet the Kents managed to slip past them all without a single problem. It only made me start laughing again. I had to sit down before I fell down.

"How is he?" Martha asked.

"I'm not sure. I haven't been able to understand a thing he's said yet." Clark shrugged. "Mom? Help?"

"Lex?" She touched my shoulder tentatively.

I wiped my eyes, and invited them to sit with a wave of my hand. "I'm fine. Really." I tried to smile reassuringly, but I don't think it worked. Clark looked like he was ready to jump off the sofa just in case I hurt myself. "The newspapers have it all wrong."

"I'm not following." Jonathan was as confused as Clark.

"I didn't turn my back on my father's empire. I turned my back on him. And…" I glanced at my watch and started chuckling again. "I just put him out of business."

"Lex, what did you do?" Martha looked horrified.

"He threatened Clark." I said as if it explained everything. For me it did. "I bought his company. He can't touch me - or Clark." I got up and poured myself a drink.

"I'm not sure I understand. How could you afford…"

"It's something I've been working on for years. I am International Logistics and Components."

"The company that's been causing your father so many headaches."

I grinned cruelly. "Yes."

"Just how long have you been planning this?"

"Since I was sixteen." I walked around the room. It felt good to be free. "When I turned eighteen, I came into my inheritance from my mother's side of the family. It wasn't much by Luthor standards, but it was more than enough to invest in a little known but sound company based in Europe. With the money from my trust fund, I supplemented my investment, giving the company the capital it needed to expand. It's grown over 200% every year since then."

"ILC was supposed to merge with LuthorCorp this week. In exchange for access to ILC's biotechnology and patents, the President and CEO would receive a five percent share of LuthorCorp stock. It would almost have been enough for me to gain control of LuthorCorp since I own my mother's stock plus my own twenty percent. It would simply have been a waiting game until I completely bought my father out."

"Today, however, LuthorCorp stock took a dive and people were selling it as fast as I could buy it. The announcement in the papers worked to my advantage. LuthorCorp was the victim of a hostile takeover."

"So, this weekend was all staged to bring your father down?" Jonathan stormed over grabbed me.

"No!" I put my hands up and shook my head at Clark who had jumped up.

"Jonathan, let him go." Martha was pulling on his arm, but he just ignored her.

"So explain it to me, Luthor." Jonathan snarled in my face.

"I merely took advantage of the situation, Mr. Kent. I just wanted to have a good time with Clark in the city. That's all."

"What about Clark?"

"How many times do I have to say it? Clark. Is. My. Friend." God, he knew too. Was there anyone who didn't know? I just brought a company to its knees for Clark and Jonathan knew it. His pride was on the line and his ability to protect his family. He didn't like my methods, but at the same time there was relief in his eyes.

"Clark, Martha, go wait for me in the truck."

"Dad."

"Do as I say son."

"Go, Clark."

"I'm only going to say this once, Luthor, so listen well. You stay away from my boy. I know you did what you did for Clark, but I still don't trust you."

I nodded. There was nothing else I could do. Clark had already made his position clear this weekend.

"Go back to Metropolis, Luthor. You don't belong here." Jonathan punctuated each of his words with a finger in my chest. Funny thing was, he was right.

**September 5th, 2002**

The Talon was busy for a Saturday afternoon, people coming and going but leaving a wide berth around my table. I'm not even sure why I come here anymore. To torment myself with what I can't have, probably. It had been months since I'd spoken to Clark. I'd stopped calling the farm after two weeks. The only time I saw him was when I was in town, which wasn't that often. We never spoke.

I would see him and nod or wave; he'd do the same. It was a nice, safe routine, all an act put on for the populace as if to say, see, nothing but rumors. Clark still made the deliveries to the house, but never stayed, never dropped by the office to say hello. And he always seemed to know if I was around in the kitchen. He'd come back when I wasn't there.

So, I was surprised when Clark parked himself at my table. God, he looked good. Even the dark circles under his eyes couldn't take away the natural beauty he always carried around with him so uneasily. He smiled uncertainly, barely looking in my direction.

"Clark." I put aside the reports I'd been studying that my assistant had dropped off the castle earlier and gave him my full attention. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm just wanted to say I was sorry to hear about your father, Lex." The funeral had been huge, attended by people the world over. I think they all came to see for themselves that he was dead.

Dear old Dad, dead since the beginning of August. Attacked on the street by thugs. They haven't caught them yet, and I doubt they ever will. Dad walked over too many people over the years. The police went through the motions for formalities sake, but without someone breathing down their necks from city hall…

"Don't waste your pity on him. Trust me, he wasn't worth it."

"So, how have you been?"

"Busy. How about you?"

"The same." Clark started toying with my napkin, shredding it into little pieces as he talked.

"What's on your mind?"

Clark leaned across the table, his voice low for my ears only. "I can't do this, Lex."

I stared. This was it. Decision time. "Do what?"

He gestured back and forth as whispers picked up around us. "This. Pretending like nothing ever happened."

A way out. Vague, half remember question, _"You know how to say no, right?"_ Something I offered, promised him a long time ago. "Isn't that what you wanted, Clark?"

Clark shook his head, his hands fisting on the table as he struggled to find the right words. "No."

"I see." Perfect stillness. God, it was worse than I thought. Time and space wasn't going to make things better this time.

"No, you don't."

"Then why don't you fill me in?"

"It was a mistake." Bright, intensely green eyes face mine for the first time since he'd walked in. Maturity, determination, and a mute appeal for understanding flitted across his face in rapid succession. Christ, why didn't you just kill me, Clark. It would have been kinder.

Furious, I hissed at him. "Don't you think I know that? You experimented. It failed. I just want to be your friend, Clark."

"I…" Clark swallowed and looked around nervously. "I can't. I just can't, Lex."

Collecting my papers, I tucked them into my briefcase and stood up. "I sincerely hope you find what you're looking for and whoever that is, I hope they appreciate you." I started walking to the door before pausing dramatically a couple of tables away. "Oh, I don't think I ever thanked you for your help in May, Clark."

"No, you didn't." Clark looked wary, as if he expected me to make a scene. Oh, I was planning on it, just not the kind he imagined.

I did my best to smile, to make it look like I was saying goodbye to an old friend. "I'll be in Metropolis. Call if you ever need me to return the favor. You know my number."

Clark nodded, relieved. "Bye, Lex."

God that hurt. Hurt so much that I was afraid it would never stop. But it was easy, possibly the easiest thing that I'd ever done and the hardest; I'd given Clark his life back. I didn't try to contact him again.

For once you were right, Dad. "Luthor's didn't have friends".

**August 15th, 2012**

The television droned on as I drank the last of the thirty-year-old scotch that had been left at the castle. I made a mental note to have someone on the staff replace it. Not that I ever came here. I should have the place up closed. Sold off.

It's a monument to Luthor excess. Monumental stupidity.

_"And in other news today, an explosion rocked Smallville, Kansas at LexCorp's ILC Plant #7. Causes are as of yet unknown and officials offer no reason for the blast. The damage occurred in a rarely used part of the facility officials stated, and the section will most likely be demolished within the next few days. No deaths have been confirmed and minor injuries are being treated on the scene."_

_"Sources close to the site credit Superman with saving several trapped employees who were working late on the other side of the plant. There are unsubstantiated reports that the owner of LexCorp, Alexander Joseph Luthor, was at the plant shortly before the explosion."_

I snorted at the television and hit the remote to turn it off. I suppose I should call the board and let them know I was alive and well, but I couldn't bring myself to care right now. All I wanted was some more scotch, something to dull my nerves, which seemed to be vibrating at a different frequency than the rest of my body.

If it hadn't been for Superman, I would be dead. I hadn't decided if I was happy with that or not yet.

Superman – otherwise known as Clark Kent. God, I had been such a fool. Clark fucking Kent was an alien from outer space. I probably never would have known if it hadn't been for Lois Lane. When he said he had secrets, Clark meant big secrets. Bigger than I'd ever imagined.

I knew about his strength, the speed, the near impenetrability of his skin, his need to save people, but if I'd known then what I do now…

A deep, husky voice interrupted my brooding. "I never did understand why you renamed all of your plants."

I groaned silently as Clark came into the study. Déjà vu' anyone? "Clark." I nodded in his direction. "I didn't expect to find you still here."

ILC was my little joke on the world. Unfortunately, I was the only one who knew it or even appreciated the irony. I'd used International Logistics and Components to hide my take over of my father's company. When I renamed LuthorCorp, I kept the original initials, ILC - I love Clark - which is how I'd come to think of the company. I think my father would have loved that particular quirk of fate. I proclaimed myself to the world, yet Clark did everything he could to thwart me.

"I wanted to see how you were." Clark strolled over to my chair, his cape falling in bright red puddle on the floor as he knelt at my side. I wanted so much to reach over and touch him, pretend he was still the young farm boy I knew coming over to check up on his friend. But that wasn't the way the world worked. I could only pretend so much.

"As you can see, I'm fine." Except that everything hurts. My eyelashes hurt. When did I grow so old? I was covered in soot and didn't have the energy to walk upstairs yet to shower and change. Why did Clark have to bring me here? Why not just leave me outside the plant? Or better yet, inside.

"You don't look fine, Lex." He reached out and brushed his thumb over my cheek. Instinctively, I leaned into the caress, before pulling back at the last second. God, I am so pathetic, still so needy after all these years. I should have had more control over myself.

"I will be, Clark. Don't you have kittens to save or something?" Clark flinched, hurt filling his eyes. Still the innocent. Still so easily wounded.

"Come on, Lex. On your feet." Clark gently pulled on my hand, tugging me out of my chair.

"Why?" God, I sounded like a petulant child.

"Because you're hurt and you need to get cleaned up." Clark hauled me up the stairs, heading for my room.

I chuckled softly. "Battered and bruised. Just like old times."

"It was your own fault, Lex." Clark stood me in the center of the room and stripped me of my clothes. If this had been any other time, I might have appreciated the way he touched me so carefully. Loved the way his eyes darkened as black as his hair. Prized the hiss that escaped from his lips as I stumbled into him. It reminded me all to well of that night in Metropolis.

That was then, when we were still friends. This is now. I suppose I should get some satisfaction out of putting my archenemy off balance, but I just didn't care. Maybe I was in shock. I should be enjoying this moment. "I need a shower."

"Yes, you do." Clark smiled as he directed me to the bathroom. "You look like a chimney sweep, Lex."

"You're one to talk, Clark." I scoffed as he pushed me into the shower. "Red, Gold, Black, and Blue." I laughed a bit hysterically. Black and blue, the story of my life whenever Clark is around. Sometimes it's on the outside, but not always.

"Good thing I'm wash and wear then, isn't it?" Clark followed me into the stall and started scrubbing.

"Clark, this is such a bad idea." A very bad idea. He was too close for comfort. I'd had dreams of having him in my shower and it had nothing to do with getting clean. All of those fantasies which were suddenly given life in - full - Technicolor. Clark on his knees. Clark behind me. Me on my knees in front of Clark. Behind Clark touching, thrusting. God, such a bad idea.

"Just let me do this, Lex." Clark pleaded. "There's no one else here. You don't keep the castle staffed anymore."

God, his hands felt so good, massaging as he carefully cleaned. "How - how do you know?" I gasped as his hands traveled lower. I tried to keep a reign on my emotions, my responses, but it wasn't working. My body knew what it wanted and it remembered the feel of his hands vividly. Remembered the way his palm fit to my hip, the way his body molded to my own, came together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, the rough edges of youth smoothed with age.

Clark pulled me back against his chest, taking the weight off of my legs easily. "A cleaning crew once a week on the off chance you might actually visit Smallville doesn't count." He kept his arm around my stomach as he aimed the spray from the shower onto my skin. I was hot, flushed, and the water did nothing to cool the heat of Clark's body behind me.

The only thing separating us was his suit, now free of the grit of the explosion. One of these days, I was going to have to ask him what it was made of, but right now, all I wanted to do was rub my body all over it, over him. I shivered, tried to pull away. God, I was hard - hard and aching, bruises all but forgotten.

I needed to focus. Focus on something other than the thought of Clark in my bed, his hand on my cock, mouth nibbling and licking up and down my neck. "Uh, Clark?"

"Yeah?" He rubbed his cheek against my head and, God, I wanted him.

"Not helping here." Putty. I was shaking so hard I would have broken apart if he hadn't been holding on to me. His hair was as silky as I remembered. The feel of stubble new, raw, exciting. His jaw had hardened, but fuck, his lips were as soft as ever.

I had dreams about his mouth too - wrapped around my cock, kissing me, licking me all over. Doing things I'd never taught him, but given half a chance, would have. Half of them illegal in at least twenty states.

"Shh." Clark kissed my neck again. "Let me touch you, Lex. Please?"

Fuck, such a bad idea. "God, yes." Fuck my principles. Fuck why this was wrong, why it should never happen. Fuck all the pain and anger and hurt that stood between us. I. Needed. This. I needed Clark.

The world shifted and I found myself in my bed with two hundred pounds of naked alien pressed tightly against me, rubbing, giving, touching, and memorizing every nook and crevice on my body. His mouth was lethal - plundering, branding, tasting. I couldn't get enough.

God, once had never been enough. After having had him, no one else ever came close. "Yes…"

I needed more. Wanted more. Lost my hands in his hair, so soft, so fine and untamed. Please. Silently begged him to touch me, to stroke me to completion this time. Let the years that have gone by give me that much at least. His thumbs massaged circles along my hips as I held my breath, waiting. Please.

With his first tentative lick on my cock, I nearly flew off the bed. Heat. Just scorching wetness and want and please, fuck, do it again, Clark.

"Easy, Lex. Easy." Clark murmured against my stomach, the sound itself sending a thrill straight to my groin.

"God, Clark. Fuck, you don't have to do that." Please. Jesus Christ, please don't stop. Quivering mass of nerves, trying to remember how to breathe, that I'm supposed to breathe.

"I want to." There was a wildness in Clark's eyes that I'd never seen before. I recognized it. Freedom. Pleasure. Want.

I begged out loud this time. "Please." What do you want, Clark? I'll give it to you, buy it for you.

Rough, pleased filled laughter and Clark was licking my cock again. I grabbed his shoulders and just hung on for the ride. Anyone else, and they'd be bruised in the morning. But not Clark. It only made him want more. Every yank, scratch, squeeze some sort of alien aphrodisiac.

He licked, sucked, tasted, rolled his tongue over my cock in every way possible testing my reactions. Every time I jumped, moaned, grabbed, scratched, yelled, he filled the reaction away and came back to do it again after trying something else. He sucked my balls, licking behind them, dipping into the crevice between my ass, tasting and testing again and again. He scraped his teeth just underneath the head of my cock and then laved the soreness away. He took me all the way in and swallowed, the muscles in the back of his throat massaging the head, his tongue pushing, trapping my cock against the roof of his mouth. It was just pressure, pressure, pressure, pleasure, and then release, all at once.

Too much and not nearly enough, I thrust deeply into his mouth, short, quick strokes that I couldn't control. Clark didn't seem to care. He just opened his mouth wider, hummed and sucked me back in. I came. Came screaming his name and fell to the bed worn out, emptied.

But Clark wasn't done with me yet. My body was still quivering in the aftermath of the second most intense orgasm of my life when I felt a cool, wet finger slipping inside my ass. "Fuck!" Christ, he was going to kill me. Hadn't he ever heard of recovery time?

"I remember what it felt like to be inside of you, Lex, " Clark whispered as he turned me over on my side. "I remember the heat and how tight you were, and, God, slick. How you moaned and begged." I was going to start begging again any second now. "You looked so hot."

Fuck, forget relaxing, this felt too good - his finger sliding in and out, stretching, coaxing, willing me to feel everything. "Clark, Jesus. Just - yes - just do what you want. Anything you want." Please, please, please, Christ, fuck me now.

Clark kept up the steady rhythm of in and out, just brushing against my prostate. It was enough to make me wild with need, pushing back against his hand to get more, deeper, harder. Now, I need him inside me now.

"What do you want, Lex?" Clark bit my neck, his words muffled against my skin as his hands stilled, pulling his fingers from my body tenderly.

"God, you have to ask, Clark?" I pushed against his cock, which lay heavy and hot at my back. I wanted to be screwed senseless, fucked raw.

Clark positioned himself with one hand and held my hips still with the other. "I want to hear you say it."

I'd do whatever I needed to make it happen. Anything. "Fuck me, Clark. I need you inside of me." I groaned his name as the head of his cock pushed past the first ring of muscle. The pleasure - pain was so fucking intense, erotic. I hadn't had a male lover in this way since Clark and it showed. I was going to be sore in the morning, but I didn't care.

Gentle, too fucking tender, loving, and slow. I was going to lose it. "Clark, please!"

"No, Lex. We do it my way this time." Clark wrapped his arms over mine and trapped them against my chest and stomach. I couldn't move. I'd never felt more treasured in my life.

He moved slowly within me, every stroke shattering walls that I'd spent years building. All the hurt and pain I'd felt at twenty-one rising to the surface, coming out in gasping sobs and moans. Clark didn't stop moving. He just held me, kissed my neck, my shoulders, my back, murmuring I'm sorry over and over again.

"Clark…" I still couldn't say the words. I wanted to. I wanted him to know. Wanted him to know how he made me feel. God, he was just pulling every ounce of pleasure out of my body with his slow, steady strokes, and I wanted to come so badly. Wanted to stop falling apart, stop unraveling at the seams. "Clark…"

"I know." He kissed my ear. "Come for me, Lex. Just for me."

"Touch me, please…" I was back to begging again. It worked. Clark kept his fingers laced with mine and placed our hands on my cock. I let him lead, squeezing, stroking, but it was his fingers that I needed to feel. The rough calluses next to the smooth pads of my own. Harsh and soft at the same time.

"Come for me, Lex."

I thrust up into the tight grip of our hands as my balls tightened.

"Give it to me."

Rocked back onto the hardness of his cock.

"Let go."

I did. Lost myself as I came. Sobbed aloud. Torn open, only have his arms pull me tightly against his chest again, protected, cherished, and I. Crashed.

I awoke slowly, snuggled up against a warm body. My mind wasn't exactly working yet and I tried to remember how I got here and just who was in my bed. Then it hit me. Big, warm, muscular. Clark. Who was awake and quite at home, his hand rubbing over my back in lazy circles. "So you're the one who keeps sleeping in my bed." I mumbled into his chest, not ready to face him yet. I should have known. "How did you know about the cameras?" Not even a blur to signal he'd been there.

"It's a trade secret. If I told you, I'd have to kill you," he chuckled.

I had to put an end to this interlude soon. I ached in all the right places, felt better than I had in years. Last night had been cathartic. It felt too good, too right, and too easy to just wake up every morning in his arms. I knew this had been a bad idea. "You've grown a very warped sense of humor, Clark."

"I had a good teacher." He hugged me and kissed my forehead.

I tilted my head to see his face. "Why do you sleep here?"

"It's comfortable." Clark shrugged his shoulders and refused to look me in the eye.

"Too tired to fly back to Metropolis? I find that hard to believe," I scoffed. I wish I could see inside his head. I didn't understand last night any more than why he turned his back on me ten years ago. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was in love with me, but that's just not possible.

"I just like being close to you, Lex. It reminds me of old times." I saw the boy in the man then. The one that wasn't buried as deeply as Clark liked to imagine. That I could never resist. That I hated and loved so much it hurt.

"I didn't know you were so sentimental, Clark. You could have just asked. I would have given it to you." I threw back the covers and got out of bed. I was right…this had been a mistake of monumental proportions.

"It wouldn't mean anything if it wasn't here." Clark grabbed my wrist and spun me around. "Especially not now."

Especially not now. He loved me. Clark Kent loved me. No, he can't, couldn't have.

"You want the castle, Clark? Fine, it's yours." God, I was angry. It was all so clear. Did he hate himself that much? Who he was?

"I don't want the castle." Clark pleaded with me for understanding. Forgiveness.

"Well someone should." I was never going to come back. Not after today. I made a note to myself to call a realtor as soon as I got back to Metropolis.

"Why don't you ever stay here, Lex?" Clark rubbed his fingers along my wrist.

God, stop, Clark. "Because." It hurt too much. Too many memories.

"Because why?"

"There's nothing for me here, Clark." I pulled my hand out of his, walked to the closet, and dug around for some clothes.

"There could be."

I turned away from the dresser and glared. "Don't. Just don't."

"Why?"

"Because I can't do it again, Clark. I can't put myself through that only to have you walk away. Isn't it enough that I gave you your life back?" I wrenched on a sweater and a pair of old slacks that had luckily been left at the castle.

"I was a scared, confused teenager, Lex. And you weren't helping by keeping me in the dark."

"And you weren't exactly forthcoming with the truth, Clark." I poked him in the chest. "It was the only way I could protect you."

"That's such bullshit," Clark snarled as he pulled on his suit.

"No. It's not. Look who you've become, Clark," I gestured at him. "You're Superman. Protector of the innocent. Savior of Lois Lane, damsels in distress, and kittens the world over. You've fulfilled your destiny. You couldn't have done that if I'd stayed in your life. Your father was right." I would have loved him. Probably too much.

"And what about who you've become, Lex? You're a billionaire how many times over? Who would you be if I'd just told you who I was? If I'd had - had the guts to let myself take a chance?"

"I'd be a very rich man."

"You're already a rich man."

"True, but I would have abused you, Clark. You know it, I know it. The whole world knows it. God, look what happened yesterday."

Clark grabbed my shoulders, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises. "Why, Lex? Just tell me that."

I hated him right then. Why? Because I'm Lex fucking Luthor. That's why. The world's most powerful man with an ego to match. I am my father's son. "Because I could, Clark. That's all you need to know."

He released my arm as if he'd been burnt. "More money. More power. It's everything you said you wanted, Lex, but what's it gotten you?"

It was like an echo of the same conversation we'd had ten years ago.

_"I have all this money, Clark and nothing to do with it."_

_"It still sounds lonely, Lex. Who would be there to share it with you?"_

_"You have to give to take, Clark. It's a hard lesson to learn. When I get there, it'll be reward enough."_

Seems Clark was right after all. I laughed because it was the only thing I could do. "Don't you get it, Clark? It. Doesn't. Matter. It's the hunt I enjoy." There was nothing left for me but the hunt.

"Do you realize how many people have been hurt along the way?" I caught flashes of red, blue, and gold as Clark paced around the bedroom. He was making me dizzy.

"Do you realize how many people I've helped or doesn't that count?"

"No, it doesn't, Lex." Clark snarled. "You're better than this."

"No, Clark. I'm not." I relaxed on my bed, fully enjoying Clark's display of temper. "You just chose not to see." The Man of Steel on the verge of a temper tantrum. He was magnificent. God, anger was still such a turn on.

"Yes. You. Are." Same old Clark.

_"You forgot one thing, Mr. Luthor."_

_"And what's that, Mr. Kent?"_

_"Lex isn't you."_

Oh but I am, Clark. I'm father only worse. You should know that by now.

Clark yanked me off of the bed and froze, his chest heaving, barely a hairsbreadth from me. "You need to stop listening to your own press, Lex."

"I don't." My voice broke. "I told you once, Clark. I am, and always will be, my father's son."

"Then why are you so unhappy?" Clark pulled me into his arms and I let myself feel the pleasure of being held one last time.

"What makes you think I'm unhappy, Clark?" I sighed.

"Because you don't care, Lex."

I started to shake my head and argue with him, but Clark wasn't having it.

"You're almost destroyed millions of lives yesterday and you expect me to believe it doesn't bother you at all? Look at you, Lex. You were barely functioning when I came back from the plant."

"I was in shock."

"You wanted to die in that explosion, Lex. I was there. I saw your face."

"You were mistaken." I jerked away and sat down on the bed, refusing to acknowledge the truth.

"No, I don't think I am. You stopped caring."

"I…"

"You went too far, Lex." Clark spoke softly from across the room. "I can't let you do it."

"What do you suggest?"

Clark raised his hand and pulled back the curtains.

"Clark! What are you doing?" I jumped up and practically ran across the room.

"Offering you a choice, Lex. A chance to change fate." Fate? Fate is what you call living someone else's lie. I made my own destiny, my own decisions, and my own choices for better or for worse.

I grabbed the curtains and covered the window. "What!" There were cameras everywhere. I made another note to have the videotapes at the castle destroyed.

"He who controls the army, isn't that how it goes?"

"God damn it, Clark, this is your life we're talking about. You know there are reporters all over this place. All it takes is one person and your life will be over. Once was one time too many." I'm still protecting Clark. Ten years, dozens of fights, pushing, snarling, beating at each other and I can't stop.

"What do you mean, Lex?"

"I mean that I made my choice long ago." I just hadn't found a way to live with it. "That's your world, Clark, not mine."

"Don't cut me out of your life, Lex. Please?" The teenager had returned, the insecure, needy boy I first fell in love with.

"No. I - I can't."

"Why not?"

"It's simple. I tried it once. It didn't work. I'm not anxious to repeat the experience." I couldn't do it again. Something would happen that Clark wouldn't be able to forgive and I would be the one who suffered.

"I'm sorry."

"So am I." I rubbed my hand over scalp. "Clark…"

"Yeah?" God, there was such hope in that voice. I wanted so much to believe.

"Don't come back." I turned and walked from the room. Needed the distance. He hadn't changed. Still had the same smile, the same rolling shoulders trying to hide his height, the same pull that tormented me nightly in my dreams. He was shy Clark and so much more. Part insecure teenager and confident man.

No, we couldn't go back to being friends or lovers. It would destroy him, his reputation. I had to walk away now, before the temptation became too great. I already wanted him too much.

I grab a set of car keys and headed out. I needed to get away from here. Anywhere but this fucking castle, Smallville, away from Clark. Needed to get to Metropolis, away from the memories. Clark was right. It's lonely at the top.

I'd been on the road for maybe fifteen minutes when Clark stepped out of the cornfields. I barely had time to stop, the car swerving off the road, hitting a scarecrow in the field. Getting out, I confronted Clark. Jesus Christ, would the ironies never end?

"What now?" Frustrated beyond belief. Just. Let. Me. Go. Clark. Couldn't he see how much this was hurting me? Or did he never really care at all?

"You aren't getting away that easily." So fucking sure of himself. "You said something at the castle, Lex, and I want an explanation."

"I said a lot of things."

"You said you made a choice. What choice?"

"You, Clark. I chose you. I could either destroy you or let you go." I leaned back against the hood of my car. Clark sat down next me.

"The pictures your father used to blackmail you."

"Yes." I nodded.

"What happened to your dad, Lex?"

I made sure he could never threaten anyone again. "I took care of him, Clark."

"How?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

I smiled sadly. "All the more reason not to tell you." Here it comes, the thing Clark wouldn't be able to forgive.

"You…you had him killed?"

"What do you think, Clark?" I didn't feel like sitting anymore and slid off the hood.

"We could have found another way." Clark blocked my way.

"No, *we* couldn't. You didn't know my father the way I did, Clark. You would have been taken away from your parents, experimented on, destroyed. I couldn't allow that. I did what I had to do." My father had big plans for Clark. I found them as I was cleaning out his office. He'd planned to use Clark to keep me in line and to make him an even richer man. Clark would have been a broken man before he was twenty.

"I can't handle this."

"You wanted to know Clark. Now deal with it." I pushed Clark out of the way.

"God…"

"What Boy Scout principles have I managed to offend now!"

"Lex, you killed your father. You don't find anything wrong with that?"

"No, I don't. Not when it comes to you." I never would. I would lie, cheat, steal, murder, threaten, blackmail, do anything for Clark.

"You loved me that much?"

Yes, Clark. Yes, I did. "I still do."

"I can't live by your rules, Lex." Funny thing, Clark. Neither can I.

"I know." Maybe he understood my reasons for leaving now a little better. Why I can't allow myself to take a chance on us. "And I don't know any other way. I'd say that makes us even." I opened the door of the car and was about to get in when Clark spoke again.

"Even?"

I looked up, my heart breaking all over again. "Perhaps, I should have said equal."

"What are you planning to do now?"

"Still trying to save me, Clark? It's too late." All my pushing, prodding, manipulating, there was nothing I could do to get Clark to end this pain. One day, he'd kill me. It would be an accident or maybe even pity. Didn't matter. I just didn't have the courage to do it myself.

"Lex…" So much pain and anguish in his voice. So much want. He was still beautiful. Magnificent.

I caressed his jaw and with my voice breaking, murmured a simple, "Goodbye, Clark." I got in the car and drove off. Time to go home. Once, when we were friends, goodbye was easy. Now, every time I saw him, on the opposite side of the chessboard, it hurt more than I can say.

All things being equal, I'd rather have had Clark.

-The End-


End file.
